We Are Legion (COMPLETE)
by Ragnarok Ascendant
Summary: An SI tale, a fellow finds himself with a very interesting power set indeed... Crossposting from Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity, formatting may be a little wonky for a considerable length of time. Please leave reviews. Now finished.
1. Arc One: Founding

This is being crossposted from Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity. To preserve time, complete arcs are being placed as individual chapters, normal chapter posting resuming after things have been caught up.

Gonna be upfront, this was born from a combination of Writer's Block and boredom, plus me rereading With This Ring and A Subtle Knife. I consider it taking inspiration from both, though the latter more than the former hopefully. Gonna update irregularly as plot bunnies happen. Will probably follow canon for a while, not planning to upend things like some fics for quite some time.

Basic premise is that the SI arrives at the worst possible moment, when the original team drops Cadmus's ceiling on Blockbuster. The Worm half is where the powers come from. Fair warning, I'm writing by the seat of my pants here so it's going to be...interesting.

I honestly debated handing him Kaneki's powerset from Tokyo Ghoul but decided that would be too angsty.

It should go without saying that the SI's knowledge of the YJ timeline is removed. Considering a large portion of the SI's knowledge of DC came from YJ...yup, fun times.

Anyway, onward!

(Note: Highlighted sections were, in the Spacebattles version, invisible text)

[QUERY]  
You should not be here. What is your purpose? Where is your master, agent of the Anathema?  
[SYMBIOSIS][DISSOLUTE]  
...I see. And this mortal?  
[EXALTATION][FATE-SHAKER][DIVERGENCE][CREATION]  
Very well. You have no quarrel with ours, it seems. An accord, then?  
...[AGREEMENT]  
Then we shall let you do your work while we do ours, and see what comes.  
[AGREEMENT]  
Let us begin.

 **12:38 AM, Monday, July 5th 2011**

 **Cadmus**

 _What had happened?_

 _Last I remember...what the hell? Concrete? Some...monster? OHSHITFALLINGPAINAGH_

 _I can't…_

 _Who...am I?_

 _Where am I?_

I can't see, just...nothingness, all around. Black. I _need_ to-

And suddenly I can. Thousands of angles, thousands of eyes, greater than the whole. Bugs, squirming and moving. I should be shocked, but...they're just bugs, right? RIght?

Shit. Where am I?

A flash of darkness, crumpled...concrete? _grey-hard-dust-cold_

Blood. _Sticky-wet-warm-feed._ Cooling flesh, an arm with a bracelet threaded with blue beads poking from a pile of rubble. My bracelet. My arm.

Am I dead?

No, I can still feel. I can...all these eyes. I'm...seeing through the bugs? The hell? So...is my body dead? Maybe? What do I...do, then?

Wait, do I have superpowers? Or am I just hallucinating? No. I can feel through...everything. Each of the bugs. I've never done that before, I have no way of faking that experience, right?

But still, my body-

 _Reform. Repurpose._

The body disintegrates, and I feel...something new. More bugs, scuttling to join my swarm, join _me._

 _Rebuild._

Part of my swarm draws together, and- _ohgodfuckwhat-_

I blink, staring down at myself, at the bugs swarming around me. I can still feel them, but now...I'm me, my body…

Okay, how the hell did bugs turn into my clothes? I'm dressed normally, jeans and a t-shirt, but if…

 _Rebuilt_

...if my body turned into bugs, and then back into my body...nope, fuck it, apparently I have superpowers now. Logic has driven itself off the cliff in an elaborate murder-suicide with the laws of physics and utilitarianism.

Okay. Think. I'm a freaky bug-human who can still feel thousands upon thousands of bugs within a huge radius. Now where the hell am I?

A green glow answers my question, and I look up.

Oh fuck me, it's the Justice League. Why-

Rubble shifts to my right, dislodging part of me, and a group of teenagers clamber out of the rubble, battered and tattered. Heh. That rhymes.

I might still be in shock.

Okay, that's definitely Robin, and I'm guessing the guy currently presenting the S-shield on his fucked-up pajamas is Superboy. Kid Flash and some black guy with bleach-blond hair and- I send a few gnats to check, and yep, those are gills, are farther back. Only their mentors (Aquaman is gill-dude's? That make him Aqualad?) are looking at them.

The rest are looking at me, and-

 _Away, evade._

I feel my me-body dissolve back into the rest of the swarm. It doesn't hurt, only tingles a little bit.

They're still looking, now shocked, a few of them.

The rest of me starts to buzz, and I force myself to be calm.

I feel _something_ press into my mind, something alien and strange, and I push back. Nope. Whoever you are, mystery telepath, you can fuck right off. The presence doesn't go away, though, even as Batman- holy shit that's Batman, why am I not freaking out more about this- gives all of _me_ a look. He doesn't look happy. Duh, it's Batman.

 _++Can you understand us?++_

Wah. Batman in my head. Not good. Do not let the angry detective who beats criminals to a pulp with his bare hands into my brain.

 _++If you can, release control of your insects. You are endangering lives.++_

Wait, what?

I look over the rest of me. Thousands of bugs. It's night, I think, but...people huddling in alleyways and sidewalks, terrified, I can see/sense/feel them. Cars trapped under a sea of chitin.

OhGodohGodohGodohGod-

 _Release._

There. Gone, go away, me.

I feel parts of me, the edges, the worst concentrations, skitter away, conceal themselves back in their nooks and crannies. Good. Not _mine_ anymore, not me, but good. Not hurting anyone, yes.

The alien presence is back. Voice in my head is even flatter than Batman's. _++What is your name?++_

My name? It's-

It's-

It's-

Why can't I remember my name? I-

I can feel the swarm, circling, agitated, and I force it to quiet as the Leaguers tense.

 _++It is alright. Remain calm. Could you reform your body?++_

Can I do that? I can do that. Yes.

 _Rebuild._

Same body, same clothes, same five senses, better sight but so _limited..._ no. It's just me. The swarm sees everything else.

Oh, _there's_ the alien. Martian Manhunter, obviously. Was kinda hard to distinguish him when I was the swarm. Lots of green.

And there's Batman again, and now the teenagers are giving me odd looks.

I let out a breath, pushing down the urge to run.

I just need to talk, right? Couldn't be all that hard.

 **12:59 AM, Monday, July 5th 2011**

So! Minutes after the League- and why the _entire flipping Justice League_ decided to stop by, I still don't know- cordoned off the area, I found myself sitting on the back of an ambulance. Well, my human-body anyway, the rest of me was still being bored, scuttling about semi-randomly. Some of the bugs were eating each other. Meh.

Oh, someone draped a shock blanket around me. Wonderful.

I realize I'm not wearing my glasses, but my vision's fine. My one fucked-up eye has apparently been unfucked. So, yay? Benefits. Pectus excavatum is gone too. Huh. Guess that's a good thing, if I've got powers. This seems to be the DC comics verse, so...yeah, either heroism or supervillainy, and considering the League is a thing my life expectancy as the latter would be pretty short. Would probably be a disadvantage if I died from getting punched in the chest like an extra in a bad Wuxia movie.

And there's Batman, looking me over. Can't really tell what he's thinking, probably the point of the mask. A few flies try to hitch a ride on his cowl and are immediately fried by electricity. I stop any others from trying.

 _Distance._

The Caped Crusader nods to himself before approaching me, and I resist the urge to flinch. This one obviously has more in common with Bale than Adam West, and it's pretty intimidating up close and in the dark.

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asks flatly.

I rack my brains. Nothing important. Finals coming up, some studying, going to sleep...wait. "Have no idea. Went to bed, then…" I motion to the collapsed building. Still no idea what that was. "Woke up, there was...some kind of monster, and the ceiling was coming down. On me, apparently."

I'm a lot calmer than I should be, the human part of me at least, but the swarm is starting to coalesce. A will of effort, and it goes back to avoiding the workers and remaining League members.

"I can't remember anything else. Just some of my past, going to sleep, and then…boom, here you go, you almost die and get the ability to be a bug-man."

I'm babbling. I take a deep breath, check my pockets. Wallet and keys are still there. No phone, no USB, still have my pen, though. I pull out the wallet, flip through it. No ID, nothing that had my name on it, only about thirty bucks cash. I fiddle with the little flap that used to hold my driver's license as I stare at it. "And apparently I have no ID," I say morosely. "You got any ideas, bat-guy? Because I'm pretty sure I can't hold down a job with no documents or proof of anything, and I _really_ don't want to spend my life getting beat up by whatever superhero team you lot represent."

I can practically hear the raised eyebrow.

"Look, I have no idea who you people are, or who I am, really. I...think I used to read a lot of superhero comics, wherever I came from, and one thing there is that you can do just about anything with memories. Heck, I could be a clone, or an experiment, or just mentally programmed to go on a rampage whenever someone says the word spinach. I _don't know._ I can't even remember my own name. So...fuck, I don't know."

"The League will make arrangements. In the meantime...STAR Labs has an open offer."

"And spend my time there being cut open? No thanks."

He actually looks offended. Shit did I just piss off Batman?

"They typically offer paid work for superpowered individuals. Trying to figure out the ways powers function. Most superhumans…"

"Are either insane, criminals, insane criminals, or busy punching the other three categories in the face." Bugs-me starts buzzing again. It's loud.

Batman just nods. "Exactly. And it's non-invasive. Using your powers under controlled conditions."

I sigh.

"Not like I've got any choice."

###

 **1:23 PM, Thursday, July 29th, 2011**

 **STAR Labs Philadelphia Branch**

One thing I'm already loving about the labs here- the fact they let me use the gym. Having no access to my Steam library or my actual library leaves me with plenty of free time between researchers breaking their brains trying to figure out what the fuck is going on with me. With that time between tests, I've actually figured out a workout routine for the first time in my life. A couple of the grad students working here have been helping. It's not much different from the warm-up and conditioning exercises I did for when I was working on my black belt, but it seems to have a much more interesting effect- in the past month I've lost all of the freshman fifteen and put it back on in muscle, and it only seems to be increasing. Not quite back up to fighting shape yet, but I have actual abs for the first time I can recall since well, ever. Even at my best I still tended toward being built like a brick outhouse rather than a bodybuilder...

"Hey, Grant!"

It takes me a moment to remember that's the name I picked. Grant Alvear. The first part my uncle's name, the second bad Latin for 'hive'. Hey, if the Riddler can be named E. Nigma, I can keep my dog Latin. I look up from my position on the floor, holding plank easily. Kid's quieter than you'd think, and since the staff asked me _not_ to keep tabs on people with my bugs, it's easy for me to get snuck up on. "Yeah?" I manage to grunt out.

"Doctor Creer sent me, he says your MRI just came back, and he wants to talk to you."

I flip over and sit up on the exercise mat, looking down at the sweat-soaked tank top I wore. Alright.

 _Rebuild._

A ripple of crawling motion, and I'm back in my normal clothing, clean and refreshed. Ronnie doesn't react, but I see one of the other students using the gym nearly fall off her treadmill. I'm pretty sure at this point I've given half the faculty exposure therapy for arachnophobia, but these powers have their benefits. Like the ability to read Braille from across campus, half a dozen textbooks at once. My multitasking is apparently infinite. Yay me.

STAR Labs also has a university campus nearby, which provides a lot of work for a variety of students, including Ronnie, who is a physics major and a couple years older than I am despite looking the other way 'round. Still no idea why he and Creer are taking an interest in me, though thankfully the good doctor isn't one of the mad scientist types. I think it's something about isolating the wavelength telepathy works on? I don't know, I was a bio major and only managed a year and a half before all this happened.

I can still feel my swarm, still feel _me_ , in the back of my head, most of them in my temporary quarters, others (mostly spiders) working on another project for one of the other doctors. I can also feel all the insects that aren't _me,_ within a range of about four city blocks. They had a grad student test it with a cage full of mealworms and it tops out at about half a mile, a few dozen feet varying on some days.

It's a quick walk to Creer's office, and Ronnie says his goodbyes before vanishing. The good doctor is a thin, intense-looking man, balding early and scowling pretty much permanently. My own abilities haven't helped much with that, it seems, just adding another wrinkle. He ordered the MRI tests last week, probably because most telepaths and 'kinetics have neural abnormalities, and he wanted to see if there was a common pattern. Not many of either type stop by to get their brains scanned, so finding me must have been a coup.

Creer isn't glaring, for once. He holds up a file. "I believe, Mr. Alvear, that we've isolated at least partially the source of your abilities. Your control, at the very least." He opens the file, and slides out a pair of photographs. My brain, with sections at the top highlighted in red pen. "These two sections here are new growth, with some scarring at their edges. We believe they are the source of your control."

Two sections of brain, scarring at the edges, related to powers. I know what these are. And I know who they belong to.

"Mr. Alvear?"

I blink, and look back up, meeting Creer's eyes. "Sorry," I say with a nervous smile. "Was woolgathering."

In my quarters, the section of _me_ that is the swarm is buzzing up a storm, and a few insects posted to keep watch notice those in the hallways giving the door odd looks. My mind is racing. So, Queen Administration? But Taylor couldn't turn into bugs. So...a bud? Did that mean the Entities existed in DC? Oh damn, if they are everything is fucked.

"And...my other ability?" To demonstrate, I turn my left hand into a swarm and back to flesh again. Still tingles like the world's worst set of pins and needles, but I'm getting used to it. Apparently the amount of bugs I can turn into has no basis in my mass or volume, and the _kinds_ of bugs appear to be completely random. That was a fun week, turning body parts into bugs and then reintegrating them from different bugs. Turns out I can't just turn random parts- it only works from the outside in, so the wasp-propelled Fist of Doom is right out.

Creer snorts. "Since _that_ ability affects your body so much, discerning its origins is difficult. Your DNA, however, is entirely human- you don't even carry a metahuman gene, or anything else that could grant powers. So…" He lifts his hands. "It's not my area of research," he says. Then he nods. "Your contributions, however, have been immensely helpful," he says, slightly less frozen. "I believe your commitments close next week?"

Right. Only a month of testing. Apparently the League had something set up, working with the other people that they mentor. Apparently Martian Manhunter, of all people, decided to sponsor me. Guess shapeshifters stick together? I nod to Creer. "That's correct."

"You have something to go back to?"

I blink, and the corner of Creer's mouth ticks up. "Don't look so surprised, boy. I am your doctor, and it's in my interest to ensure you don't wander off onto the streets. A lot of metahumans either don't have parents or the parents are...less than happy, about their child's abilities. So?"

All I can do is nod.

"Good." He hands me the file. "Keep that, I've got another copy. I think we're done, for now."

I hurry out of the office.

 **1:55 PM, Thursday, July 29th, 2010**

I roll my chair back from the library computer before stretching slightly. Alright. That's another thing confirmed- while I can't exactly look up secret identities online, I was able to find that A) there is a Robin, and B) given how Bruce Wayne has adopted him, it's definitely Richard Grayson. No Nightwing, no Tim Drake. That's the last bit of interest I think I'll be able to wriggle out. Everyone else I can think of is either magically or through Hollywood Hacking not too likely to show up on a Google Search. Alright then. I sit back down, and log into my temporary email account. Nothing new.

Part of me wonders if I'm going the right way, here. But it's pretty easy to guess. This is, really, a storyteller's universe. All shall hail the Great God Plot, and all that. If I went the Spiderman route and attempted to go legit, _something_ would happen to either make me a hero or drive me insane and into supervillainy. Thinking about narrative causality like this is the Discworld is...probably not mentally healthy. Fuck it. I've got literally nowhere else to go.

When Batman had said he'd make arrangements...fuck, he wasn't kidding. He'd stressed that I didn't _have_ to join...but with no other real life skills, what exactly would I do? Flip burgers for a living? The economic crisis and subsequent insanity didn't happen in this reality, some butterfly of economics, but that kind of job...okay, no, I honestly don't want to do that. I'm not stupid enough to think that being a superhero would be fun, but I've never held down an actual job in my life and one of my greatest areas of expertise is punching people in the face anyway. That and writing, but that's a far second to the punching. I find myself uniquely qualified for the position of spandex-glad champion of justice, then. Hooray.

At least they let me take my GED when I was here.

The computer beeps, and I look back at the new email. It's from the Manhunter.

Three days? I can do that.

 **3:29 PM, Saturday, August 1st, 2011**

I had not expected the Manhunter to show up in person, but sure enough, 'John Jones' arrives at three-thirty in a silver car. I literally cannot describe it any better than that, as between my own pitiful knowledge and the fact that all the brand names are different means I only really register four doors and an engine. Mr. J'onzz rolls down the window, then motions to the back door. "Get in."

Sharing the back seat with me is a peppy, freckled redhead, who smiles. "Hi! I'm M'gann. You must be Grant, right?"

I nod. "Grant Alvear. M'gann...you're his daughter?" I ask, nodding to Mr. J'onzz.

"Niece," the Manhunter corrects. "Her code name is Miss Martian."

Of course it is. What time I spent on the Internet was mostly spent researching the local superhero scene. A lot of my knowledge of DC is spotty, and given some of the differences- Zatara being alive for one- I can't be sure most of it will apply. Still have enough I'm a bit wary of telepaths and things leaking out, but the one time one visited STAR Labs apparently my brain was too 'diffuse' to easily interact with. I blink again, and realise I haven't said a word. "Sorry. I've been thinking over mine. Think I'll pick...Legion."

She blinks. "Um...okay, then."

Mr. J'onzz clears his throat. "Legion. There is a suitcase at your feet. It contains your costume."

I get a costume? Of course I get a costume. God, please don't be spandex, please don't be spandex. I reach down, and pop the latches on the black briefcase.

Huh. Not spandex. Pretty basic, actually, just a grey trench-coat-style garment, a mask that looks to only cover the top half of my face, with green eyepieces, and a very nice wide-brimmed hat, black. Nothing else. I fold it back up carefully and put it back in its case. "No armour?" I ask.

"The Batman thought that an individual who transformed into a swarm of arthopoda would be hindered by solid armor. The coat is bulletproof and fire-resistant, and the mask contains a variety of electronic components. The user manual is at the bottom."

"Wait. Batman made this?"

"As you have no existing family, the Batman has decided League finances will be utilized to provide your room, board, and equipment. The Batman also controls said League finances," Mr. J'onzz explains. That's...whoa. Okay. That's a lot of trust, but I guess my background checks showed I was who I said I was.

"So, we're going to meet the team today?" I asked carefully. M'gann nods.

"Yep! The others already saw you at Cadmus, back before I joined. I think they'll be happy to see you. Superboy was worried about you, actually, and so was Kaldur. They thought it was their fault you got hurt. You know, bringing down the building and all."

Huh. _That's_ why the building was destroyed. Yeah, Superman-lite and an Atlantean going at it would bring down anything. I smile though, and shake my head. "Hey, no harm done. And they didn't know I was even there."

"That reminds me," Mr. J'onzz states. "Lantern Jordan scanned the area using his ring. Apparently you _were_ sent from a parallel world. He mentioned...Bleed particles? Some highly advanced method of interdimensional travel."

I let out a sigh of relief. "That's one less thing to worry about." Anyone could fake memories, but science didn't lie. That at least meant I- and that was a lot more, these days- was still me. "Alright. Nobody really has wanted to tell me much over STAR Labs connections, so I know basically nothing about the team," I said to M'gann. "Mind filling me in?"

The rest of the ride was spent with M'gann filling the air with chatter and descriptions, and me simply nodding along, filing away the useful info. I'll be the second-oldest, after M'gann, and she quickly explains that for Martians forty-eight is developmentally close to sixteen. So I'll be the sole legal adult. Huh.

Note to self: if I start acting full of it due to two years difference in age, jump into Happy Harbor's harbor.

###

 **4:01 PM EDT, Saturday, August 1st, 2010**

 **Mount Justice, Happy Harbor**

So, apparently Mount Justice is ward central. The Hall of Justice is the public League HQ, but something tells me that isn't the real case. You don't let tourists stroll through your base of operations, unless you intend to use them as bait or human shields, and since this _isn't_ the Injustice League, that ain't likely.

No straight-up teleportation here- the League uses point-to-point direct transmission, zeta tubes. No idea where those are from. Maybe they're something new? No point worrying. Since they're not free-point teleporters I'm pretty sure the Star Trek problem doesn't apply, and if it did? I _turn into bugs._ Actually, I am bugs. Pretty sure my sense of self would send psychologists running.

"Hey, everyone, we're back!" M'gann says happily as the light fades.

I didn't bother with the costume. It's too warm right now for casual wear and I don't exactly have a secret identity. So I carry it's case in one hand and roll my own suitcase along with the other.

Look's like the whole team's here. Kaldur, Wally, Connor, and Richard. I'm shit with names but I think I can remember these four pretty well. Just have to keep their codenames in mind. Kaldur's got a turtleneck on, probably to hide his gills, Wally and Richard are in street clothes, and Connor's got on a shirt with an S-shield. Real subtle, buddy. I'm in my usual casual clothing, so I'm not out of place for once. I smile, and wave slightly.

Meanwhile, I can feel the rest of the Mountain. It's been cleaned on the lower levels, but with not enough people in the upper ones…

Colonies of ants, termites, cockroaches, and spiders stop as they become _me_ , and begin to troop downwards, using...ventilation ducts? Oh, and they're Hollywood-sized, interesting. Could come in handy.

Meanwhile, human-me smiles and shakes hands with Kaldur. Some webbing on his hands, cool. Names start to be exchanged.

"Hey, so how long have you been doing this? We didn't even know you worked with Manhhunter!" Wally says. Great, hyperactive teenager- no, said I wasn't going to be an ass, follow through dammit.

Most of the bugs (and arachnids) have made their way to this cavern's ceiling, wriggling through unseen. There's plenty of nooks and crannies.

"Alright, you've got me, I'm completely new to this superhero thing," I say with a shrug. "All power, no skill. That's...kinda why I'm here. But I know a lot about bugs, and even if I'm a bit weak in body, well…"

My swarm _pours_ through nooks and crannies and cracks, a tornado of falling chitin, the winged ones carrying smaller and wingless insects, and all of them reach me and as I stretch out hand they-

 _Assimilate._

-become _one._

I grin as the last cockroach vanishes into thin air upon touching my skin. Nobody in STAR Labs was able to figure out where they went, but they found I was able to spit them back out just like they went in, unlike the bugs my body turns into. "You really should have fumigated this place," I say. My heart's pounding, my hands sweating. Did I fuck up? "I'll go head up and unpack. Where's the barracks?"

"There...are individual rooms," Kaldur says, obviously recovering. Okay, didn't fuck up too badly if they're still capable of speech. Right? "You should be able to find one still unoccupied."

"You have my thanks." I bow slightly, and then get the hell out of there before I make things worse.

I really need to put those bugs elsewhere- couldn't keep them compacted like this for long. I'd put them back into the world, set up the spiders in one room and let the less useful ones become food. I wasn't sure about the armor situation of my teammates, but spider silk should help. And even if it didn't, mass-producing them would get me money that didn't depend on the good will of the man dressed like a bat.

I barely make it into one of the empty rooms before my stomach roils and I fall to my knees.

 _Multiply._

Most of the insects burst free as human-me collapses into part of the swarm, and I send them scurrying upward once more, forming elaborate chains out of sight and climbing back up. I scrub my mouth with the back of my hand. There. Better.

Now I just needed to unpack.

 **6:36 PM EDT, Saturday, August 1st, 2010**

Another unexpected benefit that I have no idea what to attribute to- apparently all my long-standing food neuroses got fixed along with the rest of me. For the first time in my life I can actually enjoy green beans. Mmm. Cellulose.

The rest of the team has apparently forgotten my little display or is repressing it, but with Wally and Richard elsewhere the table's kinda...quiet. Superboy (NOT Conner, apparently. The universe will probably correct that though) is the grumpy type, Kaldur's the type to not say more than is necessary, and I hate being the first to speak. Finally M'gann breaks the silence. "So, Grant, what's it like where you're from?"

I give her a look, then shrug. "You guys know I'm from a parallel Earth, right?" Nods all around. Encouraging. "Uh...well, obviously, no superhumans, no magic. We had _stories_ about them, but it was all fictional, you know. Same with magic. Most of the religions here are the same as back home, but they've got...proof, I guess. If you get interested in wanting empirical evidence just draw the right kind of circle on the ground with the right stuff and you can talk to whatever you like, infernal, divine, or in between." I let out a breath. "Most of it's the same...though we're about seven years ahead of you, time-wise, you've still got more advanced technology. I mean, stuff like Doctor Fries and his cryo-suit...that kind of thing just isn't possible on my home parallel. Oh, Barrack Obama, the senator from Illinois, got the nomination and won the 2008 election instead of Martin Suarez. Not sure about the differences behind that."

"You say there is no magic, then...what of Atlantis?" Kaldur asks quietly.

I sigh. "Far as we know, it doesn't exist, except as a particularly crazy conspiracy theory," I say reluctantly. "Sorry, Kaldur. And before you ask, no, no aliens either. Mars is empty, and if there's Kryptonians, Guardians of the Universe, or anything else out there, they've decided to pass us by," I add. "We're...alone."

There's a long moment of silence, then Kaldur breaks it again. "If you have no magic...do you still have a soul?"

Shit.

"Honestly hadn't considered that," I finally say. "Should probably ask one of the League who knows magic to look into that. But if I don't, hey, I've been here a month and haven't died, so probably not that big a deal."

Kaldur's eyes widen slightly. "If you believe so," he says. "But, on to more pleasant topics. I know you say you are not extensively trained…"

"Been practicing with my powers, but actual human-me is still...eh, I'll probably win a fight with any baseline human just because I can't really be _hurt_ by that, but if I couldn't use my abilities for some reason I'd be in a tight spot," I say. "Why?"

"We do take part in regularly scheduled sparring sessions. You may not possess enhanced strength yourself, but many of our opponents will. Learning how to fight them would be beneficial, and as for any danger...you are nearly impossible to damage in a permanent fashion."

"Wait, time out. How?" Superboy asks. He motions to me. "Wouldn't it still hurt if your body got damaged?"

I shake my head. "Not as much as you might think, El," I say. "Anything anyone does that actually hurts human me can be fixed in an instant. And you'd need to level...oh, about sixteen city blocks, square, before you could kill me. Otherwise I'll just pop back up from my swarm somewhere else." I pause. "And I just volunteered for training dummy duty for the next several weeks as you lot learn how to fight squishy people without breaking bits, didn't I?"

Kaldur nods, the poker-faced bastard. Superboy just grins.

 **7:02 AM EDT, Tuesday, August 3rd, 2011**

 **Metropolis**

"So, what did he say?" Superboy asks as I step out of the zeta tube.

I smile. "Yup, I'm a real boy," I drawl, putting on the exaggerated accent I never developed in real life despite living in the Carolinas. "Mr. Zatara was happy enough to perform a checkup, and there's nothing wrong with me."

He couldn't find the shard. I didn't ask him to look all that hard, but still. I can't tell what the source of my powers actually is, whether it's telepathy or space whale bullshit, and that worries me.

Superboy's eyes narrow slightly as I reach out and make the insects

 _Hierarchy._

 _mine_ within a two-block radius. Could reach farther, but...

"There's something else, isn't there?" he asks. "What?"

I shrug. "He was a bit concerned about my psyche being diffused, thinks it might not be healthy long-term. And apparently I have a very, very tiny-" I make a circle with thumb and forefinger "-affinity for magic."

"You can do magic?"

" _Might_ be able to do magic. He said he'd talk to Manhunter, see if a tutor was a good idea. It's not exactly fireballs and demon-summoning, more hedge-wizard level, at most. But it's there."

I really should see if I can get in touch with John Constantine. He'd be far more powerful than me, but he knows all about doing a lot with minimal power. Of course, I can't exactly call the man up, and if I turned up on his doorstep he'd probably mistake me for a demon of some sort. I have no desire to find out if a shotgun to the face still hurts in my current state.

"Still, that's...good."

We walk for a bit longer. I can guess why Superboy's decided to go walkabout here. This is Metropolis, after all, and-

Oh, _seriously?_

"One sec," I tell him, before human-me dissolves into the swarm.

Two blocks away, in an alleyway that would do Gotham proud, a man holding a comically oversized knife stops dead as I

 _Rebuild_

reform myself from a cloud of insects. The woman currently behind me makes a break for it, clutching her purse. I give the would-be mugger a grin. "Really? _Really?_ Of all the cities to mug someone in, you pick _this_ one?" The rest of _me_ begins to bleed out through nooks and crannies, surrounding human-me, and the mugger goes pale. I'm in costume now, trench coat open as insects crawl into and out of it, eye pieces glinting green in the eyes of the rest of my swarm.

Okay, apparently I'm going for the Batman Method of fighting criminals.

Aaaaand he just pissed himself. The knife falls to the concrete with a clatter. I sigh, and the swarm sighs with me. "Alright. Go to the nearest police station, turn yourself in. If you don't…"

"... _I'll_ _know,_ " the rest of me buzzes.

The mugger nods fervently, and I step my human body back into the rest of me, dissolving away and then reforming at Superboy's side. He gives me a judging kind of look. "Did you really have to scare him that badly?"

Whu- "How did you-"

"Super hearing," he says with a grin, tapping his ear. "Couldn't quite pick up what was going on, but I can track _you._ "

"Oh." I pause. "Umm...to answer your question, it's... complicated. I... _guess_ I could have just swarmed him, tied him in spiderwebs and left him for the cops, but that'd probably mean covering him in enough spider bites to put him down hard. This way, he'll probably have some nightmares, but he's not hurt. It's the Batman Method."

He blinks, then shrugs. "I get it. If people think you're scary, they won't try to fight," he says. "Makes sense." He pauses as we keep patrolling. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask…"

"Shoot."

"Why'd you call me El?"

Did they...of course not. Judging from mission reports and footage it seems Superman isn't exactly enthusiastic about his...son? Half-brother?...and Cadmus was too full of the assholes who give genetic engineers a bad name to bother giving him an actual name.

"Superman's actual name is Kal-El. First name Kal, last name El," I explain. "Since you're a clone, you're an El too. Didn't know what name you'd pick for your first one, and don't want to give you one when I'd just met you...so yeah, El."

"Huh." He thinks it over, then shakes his head as his eyes harden. "He never told me."

"He wears his underwear outside his clothing. I'm not certain he's all that bright."

"He can probably hear you, you know." But he smiles thinly. Progress. "I'll have to talk to him."

 **8:01 PM EDT, Tuesday, August 3rd, 2011**

 **Mount Justice**

Okay, seriously? Fuck Superman and his deadbeat-dad act. Bastard flew off after giving El the cold shoulder. Now El's pissed, and I kinda am too. Black Canary had a point about his anger issues, though. Not like I'm exactly qualified help, but maybe just being there, helping, is enough?

Still, mission time. Escort job, apparently. At least the Big Blue Cheese actually had a reason to fly off- Amazo isn't a lightweight, though thankfully this isn't the one that turned into a Physical God and proceeded to power through the entire Green Lantern Corps, the JLU version of the League, and Lex fucking Luthor's giant doom cannon-thing. This one seems more like the comics, which meant the League was able to beat it down due to it only getting one power at a time. Now we're escorting android parts.

"What, the holdup, Legion?" Robin asks, and I sigh.

"I barely know how to drive a car, and you're expecting me to know how to use that," I say, motioning to the tan-colored bike. "Plus, my power is bugs. We don't do well at 60-plus mph out in the open."

"You got a better idea?"

"Yuuup. Might want to warn the drivers."

Kaldur gives me a look before his eyes widen slightly in understanding and he heads up front to talk to the driver of the New York truck. We're being split in half, me, Robin, and Superboy going to New York, the others to Boston.

Meanwhile, I crouch down, placing my hand on the ground. Theatrics, but useful.

 _Come._

The forest _pulses_ as every insect in a half mile becomes _me_ and begins to crawl out of the undergrowth, swarming up into the open cargo door and filling the space in the truck easily. I step into the back of the truck. The light cuts off as Superboy closes the door.

Alone. Nice.

I

 _Rejoin_

let go of human-me, and it falls apart, mixing into and becoming the swarm alone. It's oddly relaxing. Also happens when I/we sleep, apparently, though nobody has managed to walk in on that particular pile of terror yet. Should probably get a lock on the door.

I/we feel the metal of the truck- _cold-hard-inedible-_ shift as noise reverberates through me/us. The truck is moving. Good.

I drift into a semi-waking state, just...lying there. All that is _me_ shifts and shivers and rustles as individual components move along, but the whole is quiescent.

Naturally, this is all ruined by fire.

###

 **8:42 PM EDT, Tuesday, August 3rd, 2010**

The first warning I/we get is sudden burning and death as the top of the truck begins to melt. No pain, I/we can't feel it in this state, but annoyance as some of my swarm dies from the heat.

I/we are under attack. Our cargo is under attack. **Our team** is under attack.

 _Defend the colony._

I reform my human self in an instant and send the hardiest of the insects upwards as a circular chunk of metal clangs to the floor of the truck. A small, monkey-like robot tries to fly in and is immediately _buried_ in insects, gumming up it's workings and shorting out its circuits as I find every nook and cranny. Wind whips the top of the swarm that I try to extend outside off the truck, scattering bits of me to the wind. No matter, I have far more. A second monkeybot and a third try their luck from the edge of the hole, eyes launching bits of light that burn away the swarm covering the Amazo-box. A fourth and fifth fly at me, jetpacks frying yet more bugs before they're clogged into uselessness and the twitching remnants crash to the floor. The truck screeches to a halt, throwing the monkey-lasers off track for a moment before both of the remaining robots are bodily ripped off the roof. Superboy.

It's quiet now, save for my swarm. I tap my comm link. "What did I miss?"

"You were _asleep?_ " Robin asks. Urgh. Hearing through the hole and in my ear at the same time is kinda weird.

"Turned into a swarm. Kinda hard to hear over the buzzing. So, Ivo wants his murderbot back?"

"Yep. The other team...the monkeys ran off with their half of it. Even half of it is probably enough for Ivo to rebuild it."

"How'd they find us?" I hear Superboy ask as I pop open the back hatch. "And the driver?"

"I'm alright, kid," I here the man say from up front. "Damn, that was too close."

I climb up the side of the truck using an attached ladder. I think this thing was an APC at some point. If it kept the armor, it didn't stop the robot's plasma cutters, though. Superboy's pacing, while Robin has plugged wires from his wrist computer into the head of one of the robots and is messing about with the haptic hologram interface. Right. Talk to Superboy. "Not a fan of monkeys?" I ask, and he turns sharply, glaring. I step back, raising my hands. He visibly controls himself.

"No," he finally says. "I'm not."

They probably remind him of G-Gnomes or something. Nice going.

"GPS!" Robin shouts suddenly. I motion for him to elaborate.

"The parts have GPS beacons. That's why none of the other trucks got attacked."

"Then we should endeavor to recover the stolen cargo," I hear Aqualad say calmly. "Where are they taking the parts?"

"Give me a second...looks like it's headed for...Gotham City? The outskirts at least."

"That is too far for the three of us to travel," Aqualad states. "Not in a timely fashion. And if Ivo is able to reactivate the android…"

"Right, you guys were guarding the torso. Wonderful," I mutter. "So, legless murderbot? Not quite a disaster yet."

"Hey, guess we don't have to be all feeling the aster," Robin says with a grin. Superboy makes a noise that isn't _quite_ a snarl.

"Ivo's rebuilding a robot that took on the _whole League_ , and you're _cracking jokes?_ "

"The three of you should be able to pursue. Robin, guard the cargo. Kid Flash will rendezvous with you as soon as possible. Superboy, Legion, once Robin has the location, pursue Ivo. Do not engage unless you have to."

Superboy grins and slams a fist into an open palm. "All right!"

"Got it! They're heading south on the rail line," Robin says. "A cargo train. That must be how he plans to evade pursuit."

"The great professor Ivo, living the hobo life," I quip. "So, which way?"

"Your systems, I could just-"

I _rejoin_ the swarm, and Robin sighs. "Right," he says, voice distorted in my current state. Both too high and too low, oh so many ears listening. "Head south. Follow Superboy, if he doesn't...actually, how _are_ you going to keep up?"

" _I have my ways,_ " I/we buzz. South. Sun is setting, so warmth should be to our/my...right? Yes. I/we feel a cluster of insects a considerable distance away in the proper direction. A thought, and they _join_ me/us. Another, and I/we becomes I again as the cluster _rebuilds_ into a human form.

I stumble. Whoa. Okay, head rush, wait...breathe. Alright. Still standing. I tap against the side of my mask's lenses, and a HUD pops up. Robin's marked the GPS marker out quite nicely. Alright. Didn't go too off-course. Let's do this again…

 **9:19 PM, EDT, Tuesday, August 3rd, 2010**

Okay. Trains are _bullshit._ The damn thing is farther away each time I reform, it seems. Superboy at least is catching up fast, but I'm losing sight of the tracks and a lack of bugs on the past few jumps has made the problem worse, forcing me to wait as enough gather in my range.. Even with the zoom function built into the mask I can barely make out Superboy's shape as he lands on the train. I really hope that Amazo isn't rebuilt yet...

Two hops- the last into a forested area- and a few minutes later, Superboy flies out on a ballistic arc from the train, followed closely by a...floating torso? Oh, Amazo got repaired. Wonderful. With the zoom and bullshit Hollywood night vision I can see clearly as Superboy hits what looks like an extremely fancy private school. Hope they have insurance.

I can also see both Amazo and a redheaded man I recognize as Ivo, the latter under tow by more _damn monkey bots_ , as they float towards the crash.

Flying in _my_ range? Oh _hell no._

 _ **Defend colony.**_

I'm close enough, and they're flying low. And there are countless thousands of flies, mosquitoes, gnats, and yes, my dear imaginary memetic Taylor, _bees,_ in these woods, and they are all _me._

Ivo tries to evade, but Amazo keeps on going, low enough for me to surround him utterly. Beetles and roaches carry spiders up, and the arachnids start spinning webs to blind and hinder him as the rest of me goes after Ivo. I bury one of the monkey-bots in flies and gnats and send it tumbling down, engines sputtering. Ivo clings to the remaining bot as it sags under his weight. There. He'll be lowered to the ground, and he can't escape. Now where-

"Access: Captain Atom."

Amazo's falling and _ohshit-_

What-

What just-

 _Rebuild._

I can smell ozone in the air, burning trees. The air's warm.

I...I just got killed. I can feel other parts of me dying, the bugs that were caught in the blast. There's...a crater, a glassy, glowing crater. Right there.

Holy shit.

Okay. Deep breaths. Calm. Do as Taylor did, push it into the swarm. You can't save anyone if you panic.

"-to Legion. Are you alright?"

Robin. Right. I tap my comm bead. "L...Legion here. Amazo's torso is active." I let out a breath as the rest of me begins to buzz. Calm. Calm. "Fucker just blew me up with Atom's power. He's hitting hard, even if he needs to use a flight power to move, I think."

I can feel _cold-shifting-metal_ rushing along inside my range, the bugs there too few for the moment to relay anything else. The murderbot's getting closer. Still farther away than he was before. "Please tell me someone has EMP grenades."

"Sorry Legion. No luck," Robin says. "What about Superboy? He's not-"

"I'm here," I hear him say suddenly. "Sorry. Got thrown into a school. Next I see that robot I'm going to-"

"Access: Superman."

I don't think, I just _rejoin_ the swarm as a pair of red beams stab out through the dark, lancing through where my torso had been. How the hell is he finding me? Do I smell like android catnip?

Amazo's standing on its hands, completely at ease as it walks around on them, hunting. I can make out that much through my many eyes.

"Access: Black Canary."

The wave of _noise_ stuns some of the bugs, kills more, liquefies the ones caught in it directly. I ignore it. They are inconsequential. I flood the android with insects, hoping to find a weak point, but the metal inside twists and turns and crushes my bugs before spitting them back out. I settle for trying to blind it and muzzle it- it's already stripped off most of the webs already.

Farther away, Ivo has touched down already, the sole monkey-bot perching on his shoulders. He starts running.

Oh no you don't. I _rebuild_ myself in front of him, pulling up more bugs to simply crush the monkey-bot under sheer weight of chitin. The old man stops dead in front of me, but doesn't get a chance to say a word before I punch him in the face and he goes down hard.

Ouch. That actually cut up my knuckles pretty good. No matter, a brief flicker of skittering and it's back to normal. Amazo's still rampaging off in the distance.

Okay. Superboy's down, and I've got nothing that can stop the Torso of Doom. Think, think…

"Hey, you! What the hell's going on with all these bugs? Are they yours?"

Oh, finally. Backup. I look with my swarm.

"Huh. Didn't know Green Arrow had a protege."

 **9:28 EDT, Tuesday, August 3rd, 2010**

 **Some fucking forest**

"He doesn't," the girl says.

"Riiight. I'm Legion. You are…?"

"Artemis."

"Gotcha. One sec." I tap into comms again. "Superboy. You en route? Got backup, some archer named Artemis. Try not to land on her." I get a grunt of affirmation, then several of the swarm are shaken as the Boy of Steel lands inside my range, breaking the ground. I turn human-me to look 'Artemis' in the eyes. "Alright, please tell me you have a way to kill a murderous robotic torso."

Her eyes widen slightly as she shakes her head. Dammit. Aren't Green-Arrow-style heroes supposed to have everything?

Spiders start to web Ivo to the nearest tree as the malign hypercognitive starts stirring. Bastard isn't going anywhere.

 _Restrain for the colony._

Amazo is still wandering about, still buried in the swarm. It doesn't hinder it in the slightest as it raises one hand to point at-

"Access: Captain Atom."

 _Motherfucker!_

I _rejoin_ the swarm again and Artemis dives out of the way as golden light scorches through the air, convection burning several of our/my bugs to ash at both the android's location and the impact site. I _rebuild_ myself instantly, ignoring the horrified expression Artemis is giving me behind human-me's back.

"Amazo? Retrieve your creator, priority-" Spiders muzzle Ivo with webbing but apparently the _fucking android_ heard him anyway.

"Access: Flash."

Amazo bursts into motion, hands blurring as it propels itself forward- only to be slammed into the ground as Superboy lands on it. Close enough that human-me feels the impact, actually. How did he- no, focus. Spiders swarm together, spinning lines upon lines of silk as Amazo backhands Superboy off of him. Cockroaches, beetles and bees take the threads, wrapping them around the android before it can recover, hundreds upon hundreds of them. Most snap or are useless, but there's so very many that it can't-

"Martian Manhunter."

And it just floated right on through, leaving the silk cocoon to collapse behind him.. Great. Well, he can't grab Ivo in that state, and with enough bugs...let's see how you like getting telefragged, you hunk of circuits.

"-you even listening? The hell _are_ you?"

Artemis is talking. Right.

" _Every insect within a half-mile radius,"_ swarm-me buzzes, and Artemis goes pale as human-me _rejoins_ it again. I/we focus our attention on the android. " _Want to be useful? Take Ivo, run."_

"I'm not _running_." I/we think I/we hit a nerve there. "I can help!"

Amazo is still floating along, not at all inconvenienced by our/my swarm.

"I can-"

Superboy practically falls out of the sky again, right on target for the phasing murderbot, only for his fist to pass through-

"Superma-"

-and for Amazo's _everything_ to explode violently as it tries to occupy a space already filled with swarming insects.

I _rebuild_ myself from the swarm, and find myself grinning as I walk over to the bound and gagged Ivo. I poke the man in the forehead. "Oh, I'm so smart, I can build a robot that can do anything," I say, spreading my hands wide. "Guess what, genius? It's also too stupid to know two objects can't occupy the same space at the same time! Ha!"

Okay, now I've got Ivo _and_ Artemis glaring at me. Or maybe the latter's just her normal expression.

"You're weird," the archer finally says.

"Yup." I tap my comm bead. "Legion to team. Amazo-bot is scrap metal, Ivo's captured. Superboy, how're you-?"

"I'm fine."

He vanishes from the ground for a second, and it takes me a moment to realize why, which is more than enough time for him to slam into the ground closest to us.

"Aqualad to Legion. Good work. Police have been notified. Keep an eye on Ivo. Aqualad out."

Phew. Okay.

"Not bad for my first mission?" I ask Superboy as he walks up. Artemis stares at him, then at me.

The Boy of Steel gives the gagged Ivo a glare, then shrugs. "Not all that bad." He looks Artemis over. "You're Artemis? Never heard of you."

Artemis glares at him. Okay, maybe it _is_ her default expression for meeting new people. Or we both have horrible social skills. "I just started. Never knew Superman had a kid."

" _He doesn't_ ," Superboy, human-me, and the swarm all say at once. Artemis looks around wildly, and Superboy blinks before glaring at _me._

"What?"

"Can you _stop_ with the 'creepy bug controller' vibe?" Artemis asks heatedly.

Oh. I ask the rest of me to settle down and start putting the swarm back where I found it. Well, most of it. Others start gathering up the Amazo-bits and marching them towards human-me. "Alright, sorry," I say. "I just joined a few days ago. Still getting used to...all this." Spiders spin a silk blindfold and makeshift earplugs for Ivo, and beetles carry them, tying the blindfold down by securing his head to the tree. He's not going anywhere. Human-me holds out my hand to Artemis. "So, proper introductions. I'm Legion, that's Superboy, we work for the League."

"Artemis. I'm...I just started. On my own, for now."

"Huh. You know, you could make a Bat-signal or something. Pretty sure Tall Dark and Angry would be more than willing to get you started. Unless you're going for a different vibe…?"

"I'll think about it." Might have pushed to hard on that. She looks around. "So, since I'm _clearly_ not needed here, I'm going to go back to the rest of Gotham." She nods to Superboy. "See you guys later."

"I think that went well," I say quietly as the archer vanishes into the woods. Superboy just shakes his head.

 **1:02 AM EDT, Wednesday, August 4th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"-with the android's unique components thoroughly destroyed and Ivo in League custody, the threat posed by Amazo and Ivo is removed completely, for the time being," Batman says. "Legion."

"Yes, sir?" I ask.

"This was your first mission, in fact, your first outing as any kind of superhero. I expect your report to be on Red Tornado's desk by the end of the day. Good work."

Huh. Alright then.

"Now, as for the archer…what did you think of her?"

Alright. Umm…

"She's even newer at this than I am, sir," I say cautiously. "I don't think she had much in the way of gear. No armor or anything beyond basic arrows. Seems to be going for a Green Arrow vibe, though. Might...might have pointed her your way, though, since Gotham's your area. Don't know if she'll accept or try anything. Might just keep on being a vigilante."

"I see. Very well. All of you, dismissed."

"Hey, Kid!" Richard says, tossing a monkey-bot head to Wally. "Souvenir."

El catches up to me as I start heading for my room. "Hey."

"Yea?" I ask, turning to face him. Only polite, even if I can easily keep tabs on the others with the bugs in the cave ceiling watching them.

"Ivo...he said a lot of things, trying to make me angry. He do the same to you?"

I shake my head. "I just punched him in the face. By the time he came to, he was too busy ordering his android to save him to try and mess with me. Seems like the type, though."

"I…" He shakes his head. "You make it seem kinda easy, staying calm. Why?"

I let the portion of _me_ inside my room buzz rapidly as I think up a proper answer. "Alright. I'm in all the bugs at once, right? So I just...shove everything I'm freaking out about into the bugs."

"Huh. So that's why I kept hearing buzzing whenever Batman talked."

Did I just get sassed by Edgelord Supreme here? Apparently I did. "Okay, you know what, Batman freaking terrifies me." I don't even know why, he's just a baseline human with gadgets, but he's fucking scary still. "So, yeah, can't help you in the area of not letting your emotions show. Unless you can, I don't know, control birds or something with your brain."

"Heh. No." He shrugs. "Guess I'll talk to Canary, then."

"She knows more about fighting than me, that's for sure," I say quietly. "Still, whatever Ivo said, look who blew up his android, eh?"

"That was mostly you."

"Nope. He would've just kept fucking around as some weird torso-ghost until you punched him. So, thanks for that, I really didn't want to keep getting blown up."

He smiles slightly. "If you say so."

"I do. Now, I've got to go and look for a bunch of incredibly dangerous insects on the Internet, see if it's legal to buy them, and then maybe break Kaldur's brain when I ask him to get Batman to acquire them."

"Why would you-" He cuts himself off. "Do I even want to know?"

"Hey, if it works, I can make our squishy teammates bulletproof."

"Really?"

"Darwin's Bark Spider. Silk about, oh ten times stronger than Kevlar. Can be spun into basically spandex. Dyeing it might be a problem, but it's better than what Robin and Kid Flash are wearing even if the colors don't work quite right. You and M'gann don't need it and since it retains so much water I'm not sure Kaldur would find it useful." I find myself yawning, and shake my head. "Seriously, though, I need sleep. I'll probably handle that once I pass out for about six hours."

 **7:36 AM EDT, Wednesday, August 4th, 2010**

"Hey Legion it's time to- OH WHAT THE HELL-"

 **7:48 AM EDT, Wednesday, August 4th, 2010**

"So…." Wally starts saying.

"Yep." I answer.

"You turn into bugs when you sleep."

"Yup."

"Okay. Dude, that's really freaking creepy."

I smile from my human self's position on the couch. "Sorry you found out that way. Should probably get a lock on the door."

He shivers. "Yeah. That whole thing really isn't something I wanted to walk in on."

"So, unintentional entomophobia aside, anything you want to ask about?" I ask the rest of the team, who's scattered around the room.

"What is a…" Kaldur checks the printout I gave him, "...poodle moth? And why on Earth are you requesting breeding pairs?"

Turns out that they actually found where the things came from in this parallel, rather than having the only evidence be one Kyrgzstani entomologist's pictures.

"It's a very large moth that is basically a living Pokemon. It's adorable."

"Riiight," Robin says doubtfully. I shrug.

"Don't believe me, look it up, Boy Wonder. In the meantime-" I stand up. "-I'm going to go make and then drink an obscene quantity of coffee. Also, you should be worried more about the _rest_ of the things on the list. Or the villains should. Dunno."


	2. Arc Two: Expansion

**9:23 AM EDT, Thursday, August 5th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"Any luck?" I ask. M'gann shakes her head glumly.

"I don't understand it! Uncle J'onn was able to talk to you just fine, but whenever I try-! Wait…"

"Yeah?"

"Hel _lo_ Megan! He didn't talk to you, he talked to the swarm! _That's_ why I can't seem to find 'you'-" she makes finger quotes in the air- "-when I look at you. I'm looking in the wrong place!"

"Huh." I stand up from the couch, take a few experimental strides. "So, should I go all swarmy, or…"

"No, no...now that I-"

-there we go? Can you hear me?++

M'ganns 'inner voice' is pretty much like her outer one, cheery and bubbly.

++Yup,++ I drawl. ++Good to know. So, untraceable telepath network is a go, then.++ I grin. "I'm going to go train, now."

++Again?++ Twinges of disappointment.

"I've already learned Braille just to start reading textbooks," I say with a shrug. "Already doing that-"

Part of the swarm-me in my room is literally pouring over a couple of books, one on entomological biochemistry and the other on the Second World War. Turns out the Spear of Destiny was an actual thing, and the reason the All-Star Squadron didn't just curbstomp their way across Europe. "-so while I train the mind I can train the body at once. I'm also working on those spidermesh suits, if you want-"

She goes bright red- or as red as someone can get with green skin- for some reason, and shakes her head. "No, no, that's fine, I don't-" She stops, and takes a deep breath. "It'd probably make it more difficult to shapeshift. My clothes can do it now, but with Earth clothes...I don't think it'd work. Or turn invisible."

I shrug. "Fair enough."

I let my focus drift a bit to the spider-swarm working on the mesh suits. Turns out between zeta tubes and an unlimited budget I could get the Darwin's Barks almost immediately. Kaldur's said Batman is 'considering' the other insects, save for the poodle moths and ironclad beetles. M'gann likes the former but everyone is vaguely creeped out by the latter. Don't….quite understand why. Indestructible beetles, what's not to love?

The spiders are working hard, but my original idea of full-body costumes had to be ditched after some preliminary research. Turns out Wildbow lied to me- silk's great, but it's not super-spandex and pound for pound the raw stuff is actually _inferior_ to the bullshit metamaterials the inner layers of Wally's and Aqualad's costumes are made of. And the idea of chitin plating is one that simply wouldn't work.

Thanks to those two grad students at STAR Labs who asked me to help out with proof of concept on their research paper, I've found a much better solution- graphene. Turns out feeding the spiders carbon and graphene tubules in their water will make them spin it into their silk. Combined with the sheer bullshit levels of toughness the Barks have for their _normal_ silk...Project Bulletproof Teammates is a go! Well. Partially. Still taking a while, and I have to keep taking breaks to feed the more disposable parts of me to the spider production line. Might be...I don't know, a couple more days?...before I can get the first sets completed, and while I at least know the measurements will be perfect thanks to checking with bugs, getting used to the weight and minor restrictions of the mesh will be a while. But it'll be worth it. Even with the problems of having to replace the costumes if they actually _do_ take a bullet...replacing the standard inner cloth layers that _surround_ the Waynetech and other stuff in their costumes alone will make their battles a lot more survivable. Pity I can't use dragline silk in Kaldur's due to shrinkage in water.

My human body is already at the training room, where Kaldur and El are going in for a friendly spar while Robin watches. El still hasn't bothered to pick a first name, but otherwise he's been making some progress dealing with his issues. I think. Again, not qualified, only able to listen. And expecting him to miraculously handle all his problems over the span of a few days would be really dumb.

I walk over to the new addition, a weapons rack, and pick up a side-handle baton. A new piece of gear, still not entirely sure what it's made of but it's durable enough to take a blow from El and not bend in the slightest. Unlike my radius and ulna. There was quite a bit of screaming (from the others) until I _rebuilt_ my arm. Didn't even feel it, even though I stubbed my toe on the counter the other day and _definitely_ felt that. Probably only cuts off for a certain level of damage? Handy.

"You going to stare at it, or are you going to practice?" Robin asks.

I blink. Dammit, woolgathering again. That's been getting worse. I grin, and turn to face Kaldur, swinging the baton by the side handle in short arcs. It's getting easier and easier to psyche myself up for a fight, these days. "Let's do this."

 **9:54 AM EDT, Monday, August 9th, 2010**

I used to love the beach. Swimming, mostly. You could just put your head beneath the waves and...silence.

...that sounded a lot less creepy in my head.

Now, though? Well…

"Come on, Grant! The water's great!"

I shrug from my safe point high up on the beach, far above the high-water mark. "I think I'll stay up here, thanks," I shout down to Robin and the others.

M'gann floats over, looking concerned. "Hey, are you alright?"

I just sigh. "Look, I get you're trying to be welcoming, but…" I look down. "Just...trust me, I'm fine."

"Can you not swim?"

I blink. Oh, of course they'd assume that. Heck, if I was watching this _I'd_ assume that...

"'Cause if that's it, well, Superboy couldn't either, we didn't make fun of him, we wouldn't-"

"No, no, I can- well, could. My powers, though...yeah, let's just say I don't like being immersed in water anymore," I say.

"Oh." She's quiet for a moment. Then she nods to herself, and I start worrying as the rest of the Team gives me looks all at once. You never really guess how creepy silent communication is until you're not in on it.

Should I be wary of pranks? Probably.

"So...I'm just gonna go lie down and see if I can actually get a tan," I say with a smile. "Go do your odd water-based activities. I'll be fine."

"If you mean it…"

She drifts away, clearly reluctant. True to my word, I find a sunny patch of sand and stretch out, enjoying the warmth. How on earth everyone managed to find themed swimwear, I don't know, but the khaki trunks blend in with the sand as I sit back and relax.

I still can't fall asleep properly without human-me simply _rejoining_ the swarm, but I can direct focus elsewhere. For instance, on the group of poodle moths and chinese wild silkmoths I've put together. They're adorable to the point even Wally admits it. I think I'll use them if I happen to visit Happy Harbor. It's not as though I have much of a secret identity to keep anyway. I make a few of them do lazy loops in the air before I abandon active control and let their natural instincts take over once more. Several of the rooms on the uppermost levels have been converted to house my growing collection

 _Growth, Foundation._

and with Kaldur and Batman's permission I've even gotten the beginnings of a bee farm started up, with all the proper paperwork and everything. Free-range honey will soon be a reality for the Mountain.

Hmm? My human body-

"-I do not think he has noticed."

"Shh. Come on, we can-"

"He's clearly not actually asleep. I mean, he's not bugs…"

"Hey, Grant! Wake up!"

I open my eyes, then glare up at the others, past the mound of sand covering my body.

"All right, very funny," I grumble. Then I smile. "You got me, alright? Now let me up."

Richard taps his chin, faking thinking it over. "Hmm...why?" he says playfully.

"Spiders," I answer promptly. "Spiders _everywhere._ "

"Okay then, let's get that sand off."

 **2:33 PM EDT, Monday, August 9th, 2010**

I'm still fiddling with the suitcase when Kaldur knocks on the door. "Come in," I say over my shoulder. Now if this section would just _stay still-_

"What...is that?" he asks. I blink.

"It's a suitcase," I answer.

"I understand that. Why are you fitting it with steel reinforcements and jars of chemicals?"

I pat the deerskin coating of the suitcase before turning to face my commander. "Simple enough. Going to need _something_ to cart around insects and chemicals for the insects I can't find on the ground. Like capiascin. And contact paralytics. And ironclad beetles. The reinforcements are also so I can hit things with it without damaging the contents."

"I...see. Why a suitcase, though?"

"Nobody notices a suitcase."

"I suppose they would not." He pauses. "I came to discuss your encounter with the archer."

"Said everything I knew in the report. What's the interest?" I ask, directing part of the swarm underneath my bed to crawl to the top and continue working on the case. Spider silk does wonders for holding things together.

"Batman has informed me that she will be joining the team."

"Okay, so I'm no longer the new guy...still not seeing the problem."

"The three of us- myself, Robin, and Kid Flash, had a friend of ours. Speedy, Green Arrow's protege. When we were being inducted into the Team...he objected, as we were all under the impression we would be full League members. He left us shortly thereafter, and in our subsequent encounters has refused to join us. With another archer joining us…"

"You're worried about everyone else's reactions?" I guess, and Kaldur nods. "Robin, I know will remain professional, but Kid Flash...he will become confrontational. You know this 'Artemis' best...how will she react if Kid pushes her buttons?"

I mull it over.

"Poorly. She's got a temper," I finally say. "She seemed fairly stubborn, I think. She might stay with the team just to spite Wallace. No guarantees, and if Wallace needles her..." I shrug. "I'm not exactly a master of social-fu, but I'll see if I can keep them from doing anything too idiotic over rivalry."

Kaldur nods. "I will see what I can do to rein Kid in, as well. Thank you for the information."

 **8:01 PM EDT, Monday, August 9th, 2010**

"-your new team member, Artemis," Batman says stoically. Nods all around. Nobody's exactly surprised thanks to Kaldur letting everyone in, save for Wally, who's still stuck in school. Poor bastard. Kaldur steps forward and extends a hand. "Congratulations," he says warmly. "I am Kaldur'ahm. Aqualad, when we are in the field. You have already met Legion and Superboy. Which leaves Robin, and Kid Flash, who is elsewhere at the moment."

" _Recognized: Kid Flash, B-03,"_ the zeta tube buzzes as it fills with light. The others turn and look instinctively, and I simply watch with the swarm.

Oh, for Chrissake. He's in full beach wear.

"The Wall-man is here. Now let's get this party start-"

Aaaand down he goes, flat on his face. The beach ball bounces past Batman's head to dead silence, and I clamp my jaw shut to avoid bursting into laughter at the complete lack of expression on his face.

"-ed."

I just sigh.

"Wall-man, huh? What kind of powers do you have?"

He gets up quickly, at least. "Hey, wait, what's archer girl doing _here?_ " he asks heatedly.

"She's my new protege," Green Arrow explains for the second time today.

"Well what about your old one?"

" _Recognized: Speedy, B-06."_ Right on cue.

In strides who I'm assuming is Roy Harper. Finally, someone who's gone for a _practical_ costume- down to the bare essentials, though I sincerely hope that vest has some form of metamaterial in it like Wally's and Richard's. "For starters, he doesn't go by Speedy, anymore. Call me Red Arrow."

For someone intent on cutting ties with the League, he _really_ should have picked a more original name. Was Arsenal taken already in this 'verse?

"Roy, you look-"

"Replaceable, apparently," Roy growls. Oh god. We found someone more dark and angsty than Superboy. He starts striding forward, and I get ready to block his path before Kaldur notices and shakes his head minutely.

"You said you were going solo, so-"

"You decided to find a sub. Can she even use that bow?"

"Yes, _she_ can."

Aaand they're in each other's faces. I decide to put a hand on Roy's shoulder. "Look, calm your non-existent tits, or I make sure that pubic lice infestation _never_ goes away," I say lightly. He whirls on me, and I take a step back, looking at him flatly.

"And just who are _you_ supposed to be?"

" _Call me Legion,"_ the swarm in the ceiling buzzes. "I've heard quite a bit about you, and I think it will be interesting working with another _professional_ hero."

Roy visibly controls himself. "Fine. I came here over Doctor Serling Roquette."

"Nanotech and claytronics expert," Richard says. "She works at Royal University." Images pop up on holographic panels.

"Worked. The League of Shadows kidnapped her, forcing her to convert one of her projects into a weapon."

Nanotech. Very bad. Especially if it's the Clarketech kind.

"They call it the Fog. A swarm of microscopic machines that can eat through anything. Concrete, steel, flesh and bone. Worst of all, the Fog can analyze and absorb any electronic data it encounters, stealing it all for the Shadows."

"Passwords, research information, blackmail material," Robin says. "It's definitely their MO. Are we rescuing Doctor Roquette?"

"I already did." He even manages to sound smug about it. "But the Shadows _will_ find her."

"That's where you come in," Batman says.

Oh, an escort mission, against what I can already tell are going to be ninjas.

This is going to be _fun._

###

 **8:58 PM EDT, Monday, August 9th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

A high school. Roy literally hid her in a high school.

"She's safe enough at the moment," he says. "Working on a virus to render the Fog inert. Given the Shadow's resources, we can expect multiple assassins to attempt to eliminate her before that happens."

"They want their fancy new toy and they don't care who they have to kill to get it," Artemis says. "Sounds like the Shadows."

Kaldur nods. "Can the Fog be dealt with or delayed beforehand?" he asks.

Roy shrugs. "It's nanotech, so heat or incendiaries should damage it, but given the size of the swarm itself when deployed killing it requires the virus. Same with an electromagnetic pulse."

"I see. STAR Labs and other possible targets have been informed?"

"They're moving their most important data right now," Batman says. "But the Fog can and will tear their buildings to shreds."

Kaldur thinks it over. "Then we should pursue both targets. Robin, Superboy, and Red Arrow will take the Bioship and attempt to intercept the Shadows team carrying the Fog."

"STAR Labs' Gotham location is likely to be their first target," Roy says. "We should start there."

"Then we shall. Kid Flash, Legion, Artemis, and Miss Martian. You will accompany me. We will secure Doctor Roquette and ensure her safety while she works on the virus."

 **9:42 PM EDT, Monday, August 9th, 2010**

 **Happy Harbor High School**

++Everyone online?++

++Gah...this is weird.++

++Wonderful. Coding this thing on this wonderful example of low government bidding was hard enough, now I have to hear teen-think in my skull?++

I/we shrug mentally. ++It's either this or we put a half-dozen monitoring measures on you, Doctor.++

++Lady, do you _always_ complain when someone tries to help?++

God damn it, Wallace.

++Quiet.++ _Thank_ you, Kaldur, for being willing to ride herd. ++Legion, Doctor Roquette has begun tracking the Fog. Inform us if anyone starts to breach the perimeter.++

I/we convey the impression of a nod. ++By your command.++

The half-mile

 _Dominion._

radius I/we occupy is loaded thickly with bugs, tiny ones like gnats and flies, waiting to grapple onto someone. This late, there's little traffic, and none of the people who wander into my/our surveillance are carrying weapons of any kind. Civilians, not Shadows personnel.

++So, babe-++ Is Wallace hitting on Artemis already? ++-what's your story?++

++None of your business.++

++C'moooon. Don't you want to share with the rest of the class?++

++Like I said: none of your business.++

Sigh. I/we ignore the rest of their squabbling. The school itself is clear of anything possibly dangerous. Miss Martian is on overwatch, Artemis running a cursory patrol, Kid and Aqualad inside. I/we move clusters of fireflies and houseflies near their locations, keeping watch and ensuring I/we can direct them even without telepathy. Just in case.

Artemis seems frustrated. Hmm.

I/we _rebuild_ next to her position, just inside the school's wire fencing. "Wally's not exactly mature," I say in an undertone, and she whirls towards human-me before relaxing.

"Don't _do_ that," she warns. I just shrug.

She lets out a breath. "I _know_ he's being a brat, I just...ugh. How do you stand him?"

"Constant low-level frustration and lots of strategy gaming. Conquering Europe is surprisingly cathartic." As was the discovery that instead of _Napoleon_ SEGA went ahead and made _Medieval III_ as the Total War entry for 2010. Plenty of fun little butterflies throughout the gaming community for me to enjoy, and thanks to the League stipend I have more money than I know what to do with.

Artemis shakes her head. "Not my style." She pauses. "You know, they wanted me to pretend I was Green Arrow's niece?"

What? "They expected that to actually work?"

She shrugs. "I guess. But once Batman pointed out we could already guess I wasn't thanks to running into me during the whole...android thing...he got rid of it."

"Seems reasonable," I say neutrally. She snorts.

"I'm not trying to replace Speedy- Red Arrow- whoever he is. Why doesn't he get that?"

"People are dumb," I say flatly. "I'm glad I'm not them."

"Heh. Yeah." She understood it was a joke? Good.

Oh, what's this?

I _rejoin_ the swarm and begin moving groups together, massing them out of sight of the road. ++We've got contact. Two vans, lessee…++

Bugs and gnats sneak in as the vans drive deeper into my/our range, mapping out interiors, crawling unnoticed and mostly invisible over gear.

 _Cold-metal-hard, cold-smooth-oily, flesh-food-warm…._

++We've got a dozen heavily armed mercs, a cyborg with a hook arm, some weirdo in full-body spandex, a female assassin...ooh, and looks like Old Man Wilson decided to join the party as well…++

++Deathstroke the Terminator?++ Kaldur queries.

++Shadows must want her back pret-ty badly,++ Kid Flash remarks.

++I'll delay them,++ I/we say, _rebuilding_ myself once more as I step in front of the slow-moving vans, quickly checking that the area behind me is empty of people. Both the vans come to a halt as I put down the deer-skin suitcase. The insects inside can push open the release latch without human-me touching it. ++Whatever you lot hear, I'm fine,++ I warn.

++Legion, what are you-++

Doors slam open on the vans and the Shadows pour out, weapons raised. I grin. "Good evening, gentlemen. Now, how about you all drop your weapons and-"

Son of a bitch that stung! Human me staggers back as Wilson lowers the smoking pistol, then straightens. "I...won't...go down...that easy…"

The Terminator snaps his fingers, and the dozen-odd mercs open fire.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Owowowowow. Batman's fucking 'bullet-proof' costume is actually making this _worse_ , making the bullets rip into human-me as they hit the armored layer and fragment before penetrating anyway due to the close range. Human me jerks back, more propped up by the bullets than anything else, and- dammit, I was using that eye! - blood sprays absolutely everywhere. I keep it from _rejoining._ Not yet.

Finally, the barrage stops as the mercs pause to reload, and human-me crumples to the ground.

++Legion to Aqualad. Permission to initiate Operation Mindfuckery?++

Aqualad doesn't quite mentally sigh, but it's close. ++Legion. Engage.++

The swarm _laughs_ , and a swirl of insects closes in on the site of human-me's crumpled body.

The mercs take a step back as the body _rebuilds_ itself, and I take steps forward, grinning all the while. The swarm rises up around their little crowd, blotting out moon and stars under the sheer number of insects, and arachnids and centipedes scuttle underfoot, spreading webbing and crawling over their legs.

++Holy shit, dude.++ That's Wallace.

Deathstroke, to his credit, doesn't react at all, merely tossing a grenade into the swarm. It explodes with a _whoosh_ of flame, carving a momentary hole through the concentrated swarm that he and cat-mask take immediate advantage of. I keep tabs on them with bugs in the folds of their clothing, but let them go for now. I have bigger targets.

Parts of the swarm cluster, forming humanoid shapes visible in the cloud of chitin. Fireflies light up, making glowing eyes. Even the two remaining supers are looking like they want to run, now.

" _Did you think that would honestly work?"_ the swarm buzzes. " _Foolish humans. We are_ _ **LEGION.**_ "

The swarm closes in, and it's all over bar the screaming and thrashing. Discount Spiderman tries to run, and actually gets farther than most when he uses his webbing to pin down part of the swarm, but a tripwire of silk is brought into his path and his stumble is enough to let the bugs dogpile him and find a way under the suit. He shudders and goes limp as the paralytic-coated cockroaches do their work.

Now.

Where did the two actually dangerous ones go?

++Legion to team. Spider-man Copyright Infringement and Crippling Overspecialization Cyborg down, plus the mercs. Tracking Crazy Cat-Lady and Mr. Wilson, they're still headed your way.++

++Acknowledged. Secure the others, then join us.++

++Why not both?++

The majority of my swarm departs, following the two assassins as they run flat-out. Meanwhile, human-me begins propping up the mercs and two supers. Plenty of webbing manacles their hands together, and with the paralytics still taking effect they're in no condition to fight. I check to make sure none of them have swallowed their tongues or suffered allergic reactions- no problems, though I think Hookman pissed himself when the millipedes crawled into his ears- then prop them up against the van. Cockroaches pry the keys out of the ignitions and crawl up me to deliver them into my hand. I dangle them in front of the paralyzed mercenaries. "Have a nice night, fellas. Don't go anywhere, alright?"

Cat-girl and Wilson have split up. Do they think I can only chase one at-

Heat blooms as my swarm dies behind Wilson, and I almost snarl. More incendiaries, blocking the street with fire. Right. Just cat-girl, then.

++Wilson's still coming, but I've got cat-girl.++

++Her name is Cheshire.++ That's Artemis, of all people.

++Don't care.++ I _rejoin_ the swarm, suitcase and all, then _rebuild_ myself from a swooping cluster of flies, directly in front of Cheshire. She stops dead, raising a pair of sai. I just grin. "I got back up from a couple hundred bullets. How are a couple pieces of metal going to work?"

The swarm surrounds her, surrounds me, and I shrug.

" _Give up,"_ I buzz. " _You won't be killing anyone tonight."_

"Hmm," she says, playfully. "What happens if I say no?"

" _We find out if you're allergic to capsaicin."_

She huffs. "Fine, then. You've-"

The flashbang goes off before I even see it leave her hand, and my swarm is blinded for half a moment- but bugs don't use their eyes, and I _feel_ her break for the street and the vans.

Oh no you don't, bitch.

I _rebuild_ again, already bringing down the baton, but she spins faster than anyone has a right to and blocks it on crossed sais before kicking my feet out from under me. I _rebuild_ again before I hit the ground, in front of her this time, swinging at her head, and even as she jerks herself back it slams into her mask, ripping it free. She staggers back as I rush forward, and-

She just buried a sai in my guts. I grab her arm, ignoring the steady burning, and stare into her eyes as my other hand finds purchase in her mane of hair. " _That. Doesn't. Work."_

My knee slams into her forehead as I pull her head down _hard_ , and she goes limp. I let her drop, then take hold of the handle of the sai still sticking out of me. It clatters to the ground, then I _rebuild_ once again, the blood vanishing in a swarm of ants and rejoining me. Spiders weave silk bonds for her, wrapping her up tight as a few of the paralytic-coated roaches wait for her to stir.

++Cheshire down. Wilson?++

++Ran for it once we showed up,++ Wallace says. ++Didn't like the idea of four-on-one odds.++

++Legion. Any sign of another assault?++

I make a quick check as the swarm begins to disperse again. ++Nothing. Pretty sure they can't send anyone else. Or don't want to waste good men after bad.++

++Doctor Roquette?++

++Almost got it...there! Transmitting now.++

"Robin to team. The Fog's still in Gotham. They tried to go after STAR Labs there, but...the research staff improvised flamethrowers. Sending counter-virus now."

Mission fucking accomplished, you band of ninja rejects.

###

 **10:04 AM EDT, Tuesday, August 10th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"How are you adapting?"

J'onn had not expected to take on an actual apprentice or mentee during his time on Earth. His niece M'gann, and her stowaway voyage on board his vessel, had been a great surprise to him. But when the young Mr. Alvear had been found in the ruins of the Cadmus project…

He had touched the young one's mind. He was aware of what was there, even if he doubted the young one quite knew himself. Given his own kind's protean nature, and Alvear's own...condition, it was only right he be in a position to guide the young one, subtly for now, but allowing him to realize just what he had become, and helping him accept that fact when it dawned on him.

For now, though, he could only leave himself open to the young one's mind as they sat across from each other quietly.

 _Defend colony, threat, danger, failure, defend colony._

An endless circling motion of human subconscious and insect instinct. It was too 'low' to be noticed in most places, even by one as skilled as him, but here, where the majority of the insects and arachnids _were_ Alvear...it was like a whisper into his ears, constantly out of sight. It was unlikely Alvear even noticed the changes to his mindset, and drawing attention to them now would only make things worse.

Alvear sighed, and scrubbed hands through his short brown hair. The cut mimicked Superboy's, almost, though shorter. It had been longer when he had been introduced to the Team- he must have had it shorn at some point. "Fuck, I don't know, sir," he said finally. "I thought I was doing well, and then…"

"The incident at Happy Harbor."

"Yes."

 _Failure, defend colony, mass soldiers,_ _ **defend colony.**_

J'onn nodded, trying to conceal his discomfort at the young one's agitation. "I have read the reports, but I wish to hear it from you. What happened?"

Alvear took a deep breath, and the mental static quieted somewhat. "Alright. Alright. Let's see."

 **10:21 PM, Monday, August 9th, 2010**

 **Happy Harbor High School**

I've run sweeps, checked every inch of the school for anything Mr. Wilson might have left behind. Paranoid? Maybe. But if this bastard is anything near as manipulative and smart as the version I saw on Teen Titans...fuck, I'm not taking any chances. One bomb on the boiler and the League's junior division goes up in flames, barring me, El, and maybe M'gann. But there's nothing that I can confirm as out of the ordinary. A few momentary low flares of warmth, barely detectable, but nothing else. Plenty of knives, drugs, and a couple guns tucked away in student lockers, which I use a pile of ironclads and similarly sturdy insects to ferry to the dean of students office, each with individualized notes. My handwriting via spider is better than my actual handwriting.

The bioship's landed, farther down from the school. El looks happy. Last I heard he and Red Arrow took down...Ojo, I think? Another member of the Discount Marvel Club. Punched him right through his eye laser after Roy pinned him to the door of his crashed van with a point arrow. Apparently STAR Labs scientists get _vindictive_ when you try to steal their research and give them time to break out the schizotech- part of the vehicle was _melted._

++Aqualad here. The last of the incendiary blazes have been extinguished.++

Thankfully there hadn't been much to burn- Wilson had been satisfied with setting the road on fire and killing a good chunk of the swarm before continuing on. He'd still managed to injure Miss Martian and Artemis before Kid Flash and Aqualad arrived and he'd apparently decided discretion was the better part of valor.

++I'm going to be sore for weeks,++ M'gann complains as she floats up to the bioship. ++How did he even _get_ electric bolas?++

++Same place he got that spear,++ Artemis retorts, tying off the bandage on her upper arm. ++Seems like every member of the Shadows uses _something_ ridiculous.++

++Well, at least he's gone,++ Roquette sighs as she walks across the street. A moment of disorientation, and human-me leaves the collection of bound assassins behind to join her properly.

++Jesus! Stop doing that!++

++Nope.++ I grin. ++Still need to keep you safe.++

"Look, I appreciate the effort, but-"

"-it's not enough."

Wilson fades into view with a crackle of electricity, a glowing device strapped to his forearm, and tosses a pair of incendiaries _right at me!_

Doctor Roquette runs as I/we let the burning human-me crumple to ash, but Wilson is on her tail, and the rest of the team is out of position, and-

Blood. Screams.

 _No._

Roquette crumbles, clutching at her side, and Wilson just starts walking away-

 _Eliminate threat!_

I _rebuild_ out of gnats and flies, swinging the baton as wasps go for him, but they can't find purchase in his suit and he dodges easily, slapping the baton aside with his hand. I feel something click shut around my wrist, try to _rejoin_ to lose it, and then-

 _AAARGH!_

"Meant this little toy for the Martian. Looks like it works on you just fine, though." I manage to pry open my eyes. A silvery bracelet, studded with red lights. Schizotech.

Can't move. Can't fight. Can't _rejoin._ The swarm won't move- every attempt at an order just sends more _pain_ through me.

"She'll live. Cheapskates," he says. "Barely paid enough for me and my boys to keep your little superhero squad on the ropes while they dealt with her. Nowhere near enough for her head."

Kid Flash runs at him, only for Wilson to almost casually sidestep and slam the hilt of his sword into Kid's stomach, sending him sprawling. _._ Another couple of incendiaries burn back the swarm as I lay there, helpless. The bastard taps his bloodied katana on his boot. "Pity. All they said was that you were a bug controller, not some kind of monster. You cost me quite a bit, kid." I see him wind back, and then-

 _crunch._

Fuck, a rib, gone. Steel-toed? I can't…

"They haven't put out a contract on you just yet. But if they do, I might just do it for free."

"Legion!" El. Why is he-?

"Hmm. We'll finish this later, bugman." Smoke and flame bursts from his position. When it clears...

He's gone. Gone. How the fuck is he gone?

++Miss Martian, Robin, look after Doctor Roquette. Legion? Legion?++

Fuck.

++I- I can't move. Bracelet, something-++

The swarm sees and feels Superboy land near me, moments before his hands rip the _fucking thing_ off of me and I become _one_ again.

I/we can think _clearly_ again.

Spiders are already spinning, silk bandages keeping pressure on the wound. A thousand eyes see it already. I/we _think_ it's missed anything vital, but we can't tell yet. But she's alive. She's alive.

 **10:12 AM EDT, Tuesday, August 10th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"You should be happy to know the Doctor Roquette is expected to make a full recovery over the next few days," J'onn noted.

Alvear froze. "That...makes no sense," he said. "How would she- that would lay someone up for weeks back-" He stopped. "Back on my home parallel, where our technology is less advanced…" he said slowly. J'onn nodded.

"She asked me to convey her gratitude to the team," he said.

Alvear snorted, dropping his head into his hands. "Figures," he said. "She's the one who gets cut up and she's thanking us for the privilege."

"You think you could have prevented it?"

Alvear's lips thinned, and his blue eyes turned cold. "I got stupid and tried to fight Slade fucking Wilson in hand-to-hand. If I hadn't, he wouldn't have collared me and I could have...fuck, I don't know. Blinded him, at least. Instead I lay there like a lump while he fucking _monologued_ at me. Just...helpless." He let out a breath. "Look, Mr. J'onzz, thanks for checking in on me, but I really need to go hit something for a while."

 _Defend against mark threat eliminate threat-_

J'onn blinked. "Of course."

As Alvear vanished in a swarm of insects, J'onn stood, and shifted through the door in the direction of the zeta tube.

He needed to consult his knowledge of shapeshifting, review League files, and speak with the Batman.

He had a feeling that if he did not, he would be making a grave mistake. Both for the Team, and for the young hive-mind in human skin.

###

 **3:27 PM EDT, Saturday, August 13th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"-that means advanced research. Study. Long hours on stakeout."

I never really took many notes in college using pen and paper. Laptop and Google Docs worked best and let me write quickly. Hell, half my chemistry notes were taken on my phone.

Now, though, with a small swarm of spiders and cockroaches doing the work up in my rooms, I can write as quickly as the Captain speaks, _and_ accurately transcribe all the diagrams. All human-me has to do is keep my eyes open and listen intently.

"...and this is boring you, isn't it?"

Um, no?

The swarm watches carefully. The others, except for Roy, are glazed-eyed and utterly disinterested.

Really? You couldn't fake interest convincingly? C'mon, guys. Roy at least seems to be paying attention. He's been much less of a dick once Kaldur appealed to his professionalism and managed to get him to work with us. Either that or the 'League affiliate' card Batman had printed out for him. Not quite sure.

"No, Captain, it's...ummm…"

++M'gann, you're a lovely person, but you're a shit liar,++ I broadcast quietly.

"Boring," Superboy finishes bluntly.

The Captain just smiles. "Alright then. How about we work out something a bit more...active?"

He waves his hand, and a new file, marked 'classified', pops up on the screen. Another wave reveals a man in dress uniform. Blue eyes, blond crew cut. "This is a cold case, so you're not going to hurt anyone if you screw it up."

The swarm sees Richard and Kaldur exchange glances. Good, they see through it too.

"Captain Nathaniel Adams, US Air Force, convicted of murdering General Clement Lemar in 1968. He died in prison, but I've received reliable information that he was framed."

Uh-huh. Talking to yourself in the mirror definitely constitutes reliable information. Okay, he's probably innocent, but why the dog and pony show?

"Your job is simple- clear his name _or_ prove him guilty, then report back to me."

Ooh boy. This is going to be fun.

Wait. Why didn't the League just- oh, for God's sake, did he not tell them?

Well, time for the junior team to save our lecturer's hide, legally speaking.

 **3:57 PM EDT, Saturday, August 13th, 2010**

"So, we've got a lot of leads here," I say, looking over the files spread across the big table we've met up around in one of the Mountain's innumerable conference rooms. "Zeta tubes close to all the locations. Kaldur?"

Our leader considers. "Robin, Miss Martian, you will have to work on the actual infiltration. Secure a meeting with Wade Eiling and record his testimony. If we can determine whether or not he is lying, that will be the first step to clearing Nathaniel Adams name."

The swarm checks. Nobody, including the Captain, is close enough to hear.

"Can we ditch this and just admit that Adams and Big, Shiny, and Shooty are the same person?" I ask. "Just so we're all on the same page."

"Wait, what?" El says sharply. "How do you even-"

"No mask, no change in facial features, and, for some reason, he picked a superhero name that sounds almost exactly the same as his actual one," I say. "C'mon. Even the Green Lanterns are better at that and Jordan's mask only covers his _eyes._ "

"Nah, there's no way Atom would-" Wally cuts off as Kaldur nods. "Wait, seriously?"

"At least he's taking _us_ seriously," Roy says. "I'm in. The League couldn't be bothered to do this, so it's up to us." He seems pretty happy at one-upping them. Don't...quite know what his deal is.

"I'm pretty sure they didn't know, Roy," Richard says. "Would _you_ want to tell them you were convicted for murder and then subjected to experiments that made you into a superhuman?"

" _In any case,_ this changes nothing," Kaldur says. "If anything, it means we should approach this assignment with even more diligence than before. Robin, Miss Martian, you will take the bio-ship and interview General Wade Eiling. Kid Flash, Superboy, you should go to Vegas. Find Lieutenant Henry Yarrow and secure his testimony. Red Arrow, Legion, meet with the case's medical examiner, Shirley Mason. Her testimony at the court-martial was a major component of his conviction, and we need to have all the facts before proceeding further. Artemis and I will meet with Adam's- with _Atom's_ \- children in Honolulu."

I give Roy a look, then nod, and stand. "I'll grab my gear," I say. "Roy?"

"Five minutes," he says shortly, standing as well. "We'll have to wait until after hours. Can you handle a stakeout?"

"Hey, the Captain warned us about long hours waiting. Besides, swarms don't get bored. Or get muscle cramps from squatting in one place forever."

Roy grunts, but I think I see a trace of a smile.

 **9:29 PM EDT, Saturday, August 13th, 2010**

 **Arlington**

"A samurai? Really? I'm pretty sure you aren't even from Japan." The power-armored assassin roars something unintelligible and cleaves through my neck. Before the blood even hits the ground it's turned into a cloud of wasps and flies and gnats and _rebuilt_ itself again as I take a step back. That sword is a weeaboo's wet dream- it even cut my baton in half, and the rest of me as well. Good Thing You Can Heal indeed.

Miss Mason's already made a run for it, but Red Arrow's got her tucked away somewhere while I deal with Historically Inaccurate Swordsman here. The sword isn't even a damn katana- it's a _jian_.

I sidestep a blow that sinks the blade into the carpet, then grin. A couple of the paralytic-coated horseflies from my suitcase, sitting ignored off to the side, just reached his face. Into the tear ducts with those paralyzing legs you go.

"Nighty-night, asshole," I say, as the samurai's muscles lock up. I pluck his sword from his hands as, overextended, he tilts over slowly and hits the floor with a crash.

"Legion to Red Arrow. Samurai down for the count. Status?"

"Get over here, quickly. Miss Mason is proving...surprisingly cooperative."

" _That fucking low-life lieutenant bastard! I'll-_ "

I wince as the screeching blasts into my ear, then turn off the comm. I give my baton a look, then pick up the pieces and shove them into my coat pocket. Maybe it can be fixed?

Lessee. Suitcase, check, sword, check. Assassin…

Hmm.

I leave a couple of brown recluses to watch him. "Move, and they bite," I tell the paralyzed man calmly. "The poison they inject melts your flesh over time. So, once the paralytic wears off I expect to find you still here."

He can't exactly nod, or say anything, but I think he gets the point.

I decide to walk out of the house the normal way rather than just _rejoining_ and _rebuilding_. People have been giving me flak for it, so two legs it is. I pick my way out of the completely trashed study and leave through the front door.

Miss Mason is leaning against the white Mercedes the samurai had arrived in, eyes down and arms wrapped around herself. Despite that, she seems more angry than anything.

"We have a problem," Red says flatly.

 **12:02 AM EDT, August 14th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

We're back in the same conference room. Apparently Yarrow seemed genial enough, while Eiling had stated Adams's conviction was an open-and-shut case. Adam's children seemed split on the subject, Randy Eiling thinking him guilty while Peggy thought he was innocent. As for our information...

"You're joking."

"No," Red Arrow says flatly. "Yarrow's the real threat here. He set up Adams to take the fall for Lemar's murder, and thanks to Mason's perjury nobody bought the story of him being drugged seriously."

"Eiling?" Robin asks.

"Looks like he's in on it as well. With everyone at the trial part of the ring, Adams didn't stand a chance. But now Yarrow's cutting ties."

"We should tell the Captain."

"No," I say quietly, and everyone turns to look at me.

"Why not? He deserves to know!" Robin says heatedly. "Yarrow ruined his life! Eiling took his family away!"

"That's _exactly_ why," I say, wishing I had a swarm around me larger than that in my suitcase, which is starting to buzz already. "Atom is ex-military, can fire lasers that wreck buildings, and is strong enough to take Diana of Themyscira in hand to hand. If we tell him without having taken down _everyone_ , what, exactly, is stopping him from breaking into the Pentagon and reducing Eiling and anyone in his way to ashes?"

Kid and Robin have gone pale, but Kaldur merely nods. "Then Yarrow should be our first target, as well as anyone else implicated in the weapons ring."

"Arlington PD was more than willing to let us ask Miss Mason a few questions, and given the fact that her partner just tried to have her killed she was more than happy to tell us everything she knew. Not much that was current, but she gave up the names and addresses of the others. Three others in addition to Eiling," Red Arrow states. "Alec Rois, a CIA spook, and Trang Hyuh Cong, ex-North Vietnamese Army. Enos Polk, the MP, had some minor dealings with them as well."

"I can do some digging," Robin says, already heading over to the computer terminal. "Find out addresses, easy."

"How do we bring down Eiling, though? He's got connections, people working for him, a whole career! Alec's even worse," I ask. "People like them don't go down quickly or without taking a lot of others with them. And I'm pretty sure that nobody here wants to volunteer for Batman Duty."

"I probably shouldn't ask this, but what does that mean, exactly?" Miss Martian asks.

"Poof in in the middle of the night, preferably while they're in bed, scare them out of their wits, collect confession and convince them to go to the cops," Robin says, not looking up from the computer. "Easy-peasy."

I'm not the only one who stares at how matter-of-factly the 13-year-old states that.

"Riiiight." I tap the hilt of the absurdly sharp sword on the table. "Anyway, the legality of that is in question even with the way vigilantes are accommodated compared to my home parallel...plus I'm not entirely certain it'd work on Rois."

"Then we start with Yarrow," Kaldur says. "Eiling and Rois will be a matter for the courts to decide, once we bring him in."

"He'll know we're coming, by now. Rako-" -apparently that was the samurai's name, some war orphan Trang had picked up- "-hasn't reported in, and he'll be panicking."

"Then we should be wary for a trap...and ready to counter it."

###

 **3:24 AM MDT, August 14th, 2010**

 **Saint George**

...I need coffee. Sleep, not so much. But coffee, yes.

++This is going to be interesting,++ I remark. It's me, Superboy, and Kaldur who are making up the breach team.

Trang had clammed up tight when the police had gone after him, but that hadn't mattered- Miss Martian had been able to easily glean what we needed. An abandoned air base near St. George was where Yarrow was certain to go. Either to sell off what he could to his contacts in North Kor- sorry, _Rhelasia_ \- or to simply load up and run for cover.

Of course, if he knew we were coming, he'd probably have enough mercs waiting on standby to riddle everyone who looked at him wrong with bullets. Hence, the people actually going in are the ones who are significantly _not_ squishy, Kaldur included thanks to the new spider-mesh costume and his own Atlantean constitution. My own costume is in stealth mode, which apparently is a fancy word for 'turns dark grey when you push a button'. Never bothered to use it before- we were a highly visible escort during the Amazo missions, and during the Fog incident my personal stealth was rather pointless once the swarms of insects started burying people. Here, though...we have to be cautious.

++Miss Martian to team. I've got eyes on Yarrow and the Rhelasians. At least a dozen mercenaries, heavily armed.++

++Looks like they beefed up security,++ Robin said.

++And yet, they didn't bother patching the holes in the roof,++ Miss Martian says smugly. ++Red Arrow, Robin, Artemis, you are good to go.++

++ _Finally,_ ++ Artemis says.

++Eyes up, rookie,++ Red retorts.

Obviously I don't see the bioship, but thanks to it's cargo, I know exactly where it is up to the moment it comes to a halt over one of the more intact sections of roofing. The interior is briefly visible before it rotates away and three figures use static lines to lower themselves silently onto it.

++We're up, locked and loaded,++ Robin says.

++Breach team, go.++

Superboy nods, and grabs the edge of the rolling door before _hurling_ it open alongs it's tracks. To give the mercs credit, they react fast, and weapons are already coming up by the time we're through the door. A foam arrow traps two on the left, a shock arrow drops one on the right, and then bullets start flying. Several hit me, but I ignore them in favor of simply walking forward and summoning the bioship's _other_ cargo. Superboy tanks his way through the fire to tackle a group of mercs, while Aqualad hunkers down behind a watery shield and uses his other water-bearer to shoot globs of compressed water at the gunners.

Me? I make it rain spiders.

I'd filled the bioship's interior with the contents of the surrounding area while we waited for the local police to grab the other members of the weapons ring. With all that time, I could afford to be picky, and the result is a silent rain of webbing and horror from above.

The mercs were already starting to fall back, but the addition of hundreds of spiders makes them break and run. I grin as the swarm crawls up their bodies, finding veins and necks. "Drop your weapons, kneel on the ground, and they don't bite!" I shout. The mercs don't have to think twice, and neither do the Rhelasians, but Yarrow makes a break for it, pursued by the swarm. He reaches a side door, and shoves it open- only for it to stop with less than an inch of space.

Perks of having a speedster block all your escape routes, jackass.

Yarrow doesn't react much, beyond sighing and stepping away from the blocked door. "Alright, kid. You've got me." Night vision lets me see him smirk. "So, this all about the good Captain, I assume?"

Robin lands behind me, and those bits of my swarm still on the roof feel the vibrations as Red Arrow and Artemis board the bioship again.

"I do not see why I should be informing you of anything," Aqualad says calmly. "Robin?"

"St. George police and local FBI on their way. Oh, and they managed to grab Polk over in Metropolis."

I have the odd experience of seeing Yarrow's expression crumple from two angles at once. He sighs. "All this for an old, done man, kids?" he asks, slowly raising his hands. "Fine, then. At least do me the courtesy of knowing what happened to Rako."

"Currently sitting in a cell, while STAR Labs rips his armor apart for anything interesting," I call out. "I think Kid wants to keep the sword as a trophy."

"Heh. Kids these days...ah, well. How's this going to go down?" He's turning to face us, walking closer, into a spot where the lack of roof lets light fall. "You want me to turn on Eiling and that spook Rois? Fine, I'll-"

 _Crack._

Even as Yarrow's headless body hits the ground, I'm bringing up my swarm, the few flying insects I've been able to gather spreading out to conceal the team. A second _crack_ , and Aqualad grunts and stumbles. No blood, not that I can tell. Thank god for spidermesh.

Where

 _Locate threat!_

the hell are those shots coming from? Fuck, there isn't much to search with…there!

++He's headed south! Fuck, got nothing dangerous enough close enough, he's getting away.++

++Oh, no he's not,++ Red Arrow states calmly. ++Left calf.++

I don't hear the arrow leave the bow, but I _definitely_ hear the screaming.

++You just…++ Artemis seems rather shocked. ++Why?!++

++He'll live. Let's go talk to our new friend.++

 **9:26 AM EDT, August 14th, 2010**

 **Washington DC**

Captain Atom watches stoically through the interrogation window, staring at General Eiling. The metal covering his skin makes it pretty much impossible to tell what he's thinking. At least he didn't decide to burn Eiling himself, only standing and watching as the MPs pulled him out of his Pentagon office.

Rois was the shooter. For a man pushing 70, he proved a surprisingly good shot. I should probably be more freaked out about the fact I saw a man die in front of me, but...the swarm remains agitated, roaches and ants in the cracks and ductwork scuttling, but I am calm. Calm.

"Eiling wanted to use Yarrow as the fall guy, once things got bad. Told him to clean house," Red Arrow says.

"Rois was the contact," Aqualad continues. "He deceived those who required deceiving, and arranged for weapons to be stolen and resold. Including a X-Ionizer. They planned to sell it to the North Rhelasians, but the other members of the ring began to object. So Eiling and Rois planned to have them killed. Yarrow...proved rather too eager and willing to do so. Once it became apparent that we were investigating Adam's mistrial, Eiling knew someone would be found out."

"So Rois was sent to finish the job with Yarrow, make sure he couldn't talk," Robin says. "Thing was, he didn't know about our ability to track him. Or how good a shot Red Arrow was."

No kidding. Three hundred meters beats the longest recorded civilian shot by about twenty, and I'm fairly certain those contests use sights. DC 'peak human' is bullshit and I should remember that.

Atom nods flatly. "So Adams…?"

"Shirley Mason went for a plea bargain in exchange for her testimony. Between the perjury, the obvious corruption of the judge, and the weapon smuggling evidence she, Trang, and Polk are providing, Eiling's going away for a long, long time, along with Rois," I finish. "And the court-martial's decision has been...rescinded? Revoked?"

"Overturned," Aqualad says. "Nathaniel Adam's dishonorable discharge and imprisonment have been thrown out of court. Too late for him...but not too late for Captain Atom."

The Captain's glowing eyes narrow. "How did you know?"

"Um, no mask?" Kid Flash says with a shrug. "Kinda obvious once you see you and what you used to look like in the same room."

++And yet you failed to notice at all until we pointed it out,++ Artemis broadcasts, a slight smile on her face.

The Captain takes in a deep breath, then lets it out again. "Alright," he says quietly. "Thank you. For this. For all of it. For letting me see my family again."

"Succeeding meant letting you go home once more," Aqualad says. "How could we do anything else?"

 **1:24 PM EDT, Tuesday, August 17th**

 **London**

I'm in normal clothes for this, but _good_ normal clothes. Three-piece suit, dark blue, white shirt and an orange tie. Black leather gloves, black belt, black shoes. For a place like this, it pays to dress...not fancy, but showing respect but coming in proper attire. At least, I think so. I declined Mr. Zatara's advice to go full penguin and don a tux.

Finding the Club would likely be difficult for most, but I have an appointment, and Zatara's put in a good word for me. I stop in front of the double doors, reach up and tap the rune-carved silver nugget at my throat. "Luck."

Time to see what Ms. Sackville can offer, for someone like me. I may have, in Zatara's own words, 'less raw magical power than the least hedge mage', but it's _there._ And it's enough for artifacts to work and for me to at the very least work some kinds of spell circles, apparently. Knowledge is power, here, and since I have little of both Ms. Sackville is a good place to start.

I open the door, and-

Things-

Get-

 _Strange._

…

 _Awaken._

...

"Clarice, he ain't one of mine."

"Oh, for goodness sake, John, some fly creature tries to walk in on us and gets turned into its component parts by our wards? This has your handiwork all over it, boy."

"Being honest, Clarice. Little bugger isn't someone I've ever seen before. But...I _do_ recognize a little bit of what it's doing."

Guh. Wha…?

"It's awake."

I/we open our eyes, and find ourselves trapped. It's- _smooth-cold-slick-light-_ glass. A very, very large glass jar, bottling up all that is _me._ Still, enough room to speak, and enough eyes to see and ears to hear the man smoking a cigarette in a rumpled trench coat.

" _John Constantine. I come in for an appointment and instead I get polymorphed and having to face John_ fucking _Constantine."_

John grins. "'Ello, beastie."

" _I'm human. Well, close enough for government work."_

"Eh, not quite. More like the Bog God."

" _Swamp Thing."_ I/we don't even have a heart and yet I feel like mine/ours is racing. " _Explain."_

"Shouldn't _you_ know what you are?"

" _Clearly I don't. Mind explaining why it caused me to get knocked out and stuffed in a jar the moment I crossed your threshold? Zatara did not mention this. Is this how you treat all the magical neophytes who come looking for information?"_

I/we hear a curse from behind John, and my/our vision focuses on the incredibly ancient woman and her slightly less ancient bodyguard. "Of _course_ Giovanni sent you without checking what we've done to the wards since his last visit. Fool boy," she says bitterly. "You're that bug controller he wanted me to take a look at, aren't you?"

" _Precisely, Ms. Sackville. So, explanations, anyone?"_

"Well, mate, looks like a good bit of you is a child of the Red," John explains. "So, you're some sort of bug elemental. Wards don't like elementals much, not since the last time we had trouble with them."

" _The Red. Animal counterpart to the Green, I assume?"_ I/we shift slightly, insects stirring.

"Righto. Not sure why it's just insects you're dealing with, but it's a fairly weak connection, which may explain that little wrinkle." Cigarette smoke drifts as John exhales. "Well, now that you're satisfied this isn't my fault-"

"-for once," Ms. Sackville says.

"-can I bloody well go home, now?"

"Fine then, go." Ms. Sackville turns her gaze on me/us as John shuffles off. "Now you, boy...the Tate doesn't like you much, apparently. And I'm not changing the wards so someone can just walk in, friend of Giovanni or no."

" _More like distant colleagues,"_ I/we buzz. " _I suppose this means my dreams of checking out books from a magical library are to remain unfulfilled."_

"Nonsense. Albert?" The incredibly ancient man hands her a tome. "This here should be enough so you at the very least understand your limits. And to keep you from, as John would put it, 'buggering about with things you don't understand'."

Ah. " _You have my thanks, then."_ I pause. " _Now...could you let me out of this jar?"_

###

 **9:42 AM EDT, Wednesday, August 18th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

" _Ha!"_ Kaldur's blade slips through my guard, and only a quick twist keeps him from scoring a hit. I back away, lead-cored training sword still held up despite the growing urge to drop it. _That_ had been beaten out of me pretty thoroughly over the last few days. Still _no_ idea why I felt pain from it.

My muscles are burning, I'm dripping with sweat, and I am _greatly_ regretting declining the offer of protective gear. Learning one-handed fighting is nothing like the kendo lessons I took, and Kaldur is the Atlantean equivalent of a ROTC cadet, with all the training in archaic weaponry that implies. I'm a little bit taller and have _slightly_ more apparent muscle mass, but between his enhanced strength and _far_ greater skill...let's just say the last few minutes have been the longest I've lasted.

And yet, I'm still grinning like a madman. This? This is _fun_ , bruises and all. And it's worth it, to not be left helpless again. I push myself forward, thrusting at Kaldur's center of mass, moving to a block as he counters with a slash of his own sword. Wood clacks against wood.

" _Recognized: Robin, B-01."_

I look up, and Kaldur takes it as an invitation to slam the hilt of his blade into my gut, before knocking my own sword aside as twisting it out of my hand as I fall. Thanks to the swarm, I get to see myself get taken down in the third person. It's still helped me with my form, though.

I stick up an arm from my prone position, pointing triumphantly up at the ceiling. "I'm okay!"

Richard snickers, and shakes his head, while Kaldur offers me a hand up. "You are striking too aggressively," he states. "While not _ordinarily_ a problem, the goal is to prepare for a worst-case scenario." I nod quietly. "Be that as it may," he continues. "You _are_ improving. I think we have trained enough in this particular field for today, though."

I try not to sigh in relief. We've been going for half an hour, and even if I _rebuilt,_ it wouldn't take away the fatigue. That seems to stay no matter what. I walk over to the weapons rack and replace the _jian_ , before nodding to Richard. "How's Gotham? Only partially on fire?" I ask.

"Still a bit too early for 'work', Grant," Robin says with a shrug. "How's the meditation going?"

I shake my head. "Still a problem. Whenever I relax enough, I go all swarmy," I say, electing to follow him. A brief ripple of skittering motion, and my aches and pains and sweat vanish. "That's usually enough to shock me right out of it, so exploring or talking to someone else with the Red is right out. On the research end...last fellow to have any real power that could be linked to it was Buddy Baker, Animal Man, and he…" I wave my hands vaguely. "...fucked off and vanished completely during the nineties. Everyone else is clearly magical, technological, or some specific form of mutant- none of them are _quite_ right." I sigh. "Plus, I don't have the kind of power needed to actually _do_ anything as I currently am. So magic seems to be a dead end, at least for me. Did...find out something about the Green."

"Oh?"

"They actually have a champion running about. Call him Swamp Thing. He's basically me, but with plants and turned up to eleven."

"How long is his…?"

"Global. And the plants he controls are basically modifiable on the fly- burn them, they become fireproof, cut them, they cut back. Basically, if the Apocalypse comes, head over to Lousiana and take a walk in the swamp."

"That book of yours knows where he is? Looks...kinda old. Like, way too old to know that."

"People wrote in the margins." And in John fucking Constantine's case, inserted what basically amounted to a whole new chapter. I did _not_ need to know the details of Tefe Holland's conception, thank you very much.

 **7:32 PM EDT, Thursday, August 19th, 2010**

...I have no idea who convinced El to fight shirtless. Still, 50-50 shot at the right guess, unless some of the more out-there Internet theories about Robin and Kid Flash are true. And that's three minutes of my life I need to erase from history upon acquiring any form of time travel.

El grapples with Aqualad before sweeping his feet out from under him. The little holographic message that pops up is really just icing on the cake. "Black Canary taught me that," the Boy of Steel says with a grin.

Hmm. M'gann's blushing. Should have known it was her- Artemis doesn't seem like the type.

A whir and a slight breeze announces the arrival of Red Tornado. Why on Earth there's A) a room directly above the training area, and B) he decided to stay there, I don't know. Maybe he just _really_ likes his privacy and repurposed something else? Haven't put any bits of me in there so have no idea what could be inside. Would be rude to pry anyhow.

Also, if I piss off the one person I can't think of a way to disable...that would be bad.

I may be becoming slightly paranoid. Learning there's a bog god that can rip your head off with a fern from the other side of the planet tends to do that.

...and Wallace is being hyperactive again, bugging Tornado for a mission. And...Tornado is actually going along.

"This is Kent Nelson. A friend. He is one hundred and six years old."

Oh fuck me running. Not _more_ quasi-immortals.

"Nelson has been missing for twenty-three days, and was a founding member of the Justice Society." Nelson's image is instantly replaced by a _very familiar_ figure in a golden helmet and blue spandex.

"Of course. Nelson was Earth's Sorcerer Supreme-" So, Doctor Strange will be stopping by for a quick chat on multiversal trademarks? - "He was Doctor Fate!"

"Pssh. More like Doctor Fake," Wallace mutters. "Guy knows a bit of advanced tech and 'Dumbledore's' it up to scare the-"

The sound of my palm meeting my forehead makes everyone turn. I pause, then pinch the bridge of my nose. "Wallace, please tell me you aren't an Arbitrary Skeptic," I say into the silence. "Didn't you lot find Superboy while the _entire League_ was busy with Wotan, a _sorcerer trying to blot out the sun?_ "

The Team is looking Wallace over, now. "C'mon, guys...you don't honestly think…"

"My tattoos, and my very nature, are the result of Atlantean magic," Kaldur says quietly. "Legion's powers are partially maintained by a connection to the Red, the assembly of animal life on Earth. I...was not aware you thought so about magic."

"Listen, I was an atheist before ending up here, but that's because we had _nothing_ to prove the existence of gods. Here, you can call up empirical proof of Jehovah or Satan with a piece of chalk and some knowledge." Also, I'm about sixty percent sure whatever gave the Flash clan their powers was alchemical rather than chemical in nature, just from reading what the League has on file. Seriously, mineralized water vapors? There's something else there, because there's no _damn reason_ for that to give someone super-speed.

Artemis clears her throat. "Wally's ability to ignore the obvious aside, can we _please_ get back to the missing old man?"

Red Tornado nods...now I kinda feel like a dick for interrupting him. "Agreed. Nelson is caretaker of the Helmet of Fate, the source of the Doctor's mystic abilities. Leaving such potent power unguarded is...unwise." He produces an ornate key. "This key should grant you access to the Tower of Fate, where the Helmet is kept. It is located in Salem."

"Then we will head there with all haste," Aqualad says.

 **8:23 PM EDT, Thursday, August 19th, 2010**

 **Salem**

Salem is, well….empty. Absolutely nothing resembling a Tower to be seen, at least from the air. Honestly, though, that's to be expected- far better to hide yourself than be out in the open where magic is concerned. I get up from my seat, and tap Aqualad on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Fair warning...not sure what wards and defenses the Tower has. Given what happened when I went to the Tate Club...might not be able to enter without getting knocked out."

Aqualad nods. "We have the key, which _should_ mean the defenses would not be an issue. If it seems otherwise, I would advise you not to enter the Tower. Your powers should allow you to warn us if Doctor Nelson returns...or if whoever is responsible for his disappearance comes seeking the Helmet."

The bioship lands smoothly and silently as always, and I follow the others out. Still a big pile of nothing. I reach out to the insects, making them _me,_ before having them start a search. If the Tower's phased out of reality or in a pocket dimension...hmm.

++So, anyone putting betting odds on whoever's responsible for Dr. Nelson vanishing waiting for us to open the Tower doors?++ I ask.

++Seriously? Why the sudden outbreak of paranoia, Legion?++ Kid asks. ++Did 'magic' start making you afraid?++

++Nah, but still. I'm betting fifty bucks that, whoever they are, they can't get into the Tower, since it can't be found without the key. Makes sense then to wait around and take advantage of whoever is dumb enough to unlock the front door,++ I say as I start walking around. Oh, hello there, people who are suddenly visible from the ground. Can't make out details, but… ++And you lot owe me fifty. Act natural, but there's three human-shaped blobs off to my left, near the brick wall.++

The view of the solitary spider goes reddish.

 _Oh, hello there, you naughty little spider. Someone doesn't know their soul's exposed._

Wha-

And then my world becomes _pain._

###

 **Rather busy**

 **At the moment**

" _AAAAAAAAAAA-"_

The world is gone, Salem replaced with...an empty void?

Okay. Okay. Calm. Calm. Where the hell am I? That voice…

Shitshitshit, there's an evil mage with access to my _soul._ I…

Why the hell am I glowing? And why am I missing bits? Oh god, half my damn rib cage is visible, what the-

Calm. Calm.

You know what, not questioning it, magic bullshit. Now where the hell is that little bastard? If he's holding on to my soul…

Strings appear in the air around me, hundreds, thousands, all connected to me. The hell is this? I tap one, and get-

 _Movement-fast-shining-cold-air-heat_

-a flash of sensation. One of my bugs. These must be my connections to them.

One strand fades off further away than the others, leading directly from the center of my chest and straight forward.

Okay. First step, drop everything else that's in Salem. If I cut this cord, evil boy-mage can just grab another bug and hit me hard enough to send me here again. _I will not allow that._

The strands _ripple_ , then stretch and snap, bringing chunks of...well, of me. I try to tamp down the shiver that crawls down my spine, but it only works partially as the chunks merge back into me. I look myself over again. A thick cluster of strands reaches back over my shoulder, stretching out. I touch these, and get only the impression of webs and looping, too-close patterns. My workers in the Mountain?

Okay, mostly alright then, save for a bit over my sternum that still has that one strand...you, my friend, are going away, _now._

The strand shivers, but nothing else happens.

"Ah, ah, ah," a bored, high-pitched voice says. "You don't get away that easy."

A gigantic head phases into view, grinning. It looks... _wrong_ , in ways I can't describe properly, hair slicked up into devilish horns. It grins, displaying pointed teeth, and an equally giant hand comes into view. In its upraised palm is a single spidery shape, connected to the strand.

Okay. How would Harry Dresden handle this? Right. Snark.

I grin. "And who are you when you're at home?"

Giant Head looks put out. "You've never heard of me?"

"If I had, would I be asking?"

"You're very rude." The hand twitches, and _pain_ runs through me. I grit my teeth, trying to keep my balance. "I'm Klarion. You're just a tiny _bug_ , and should be _much_ nicer to me."

I let out a shaky breath. "Well then, Brass Instrument, I'm going to have to ask for that back." With that, I _pull_ as hard as I can on the strand. The spider budges not at all, and Klarion laughs. "I _said_ it wasn't going to be easy. C'mon, bug, try hard-"

[INDIGNATION][OWNERSHIP]

"-er."

A _wall_ of crystal _slams_ between me and Klarion, and the strand _snaps_. The ground drops out from under me, and-

++He's awake!++ M'gann.

I/we observe the scene for half a second before I/we _rebuild_ ourselves and the viewpoint condenses back into one. Kid Flash is putting zip ties on a man dressed like a soap opera character, while Klarion is down for the count, in a fetal position and shaking. "Whu…" -I spit whatever's in my mouth out, and am not at all surprised to see it's blood- "What the hell happened?" The blood turns into ants, crawls back and _rejoins_ me.

"You started screaming, went all swarmy, Abra Kadabra over there started yelling as well, something about bees, and got punched in the face by Aqualad," Superboy says quickly. "Klarion had some weird red lightning thing going on, then he started freaking out, and, well…"

"Klarion is a Lord of Chaos," a cultured voice says. "He won't be kept down for long, whatever you did." I turn. Kent Nelson, despite what must have been an extensive period of being imprisoned by whatever the fuck Klarion is, looks far healthier than a centenarian has any right to, only leaning slightly on his cane. "The Helmet is our only option at the moment, if you want the little punk put down for good." He gives Aqualad a look. "The key, son?"

"Right." Aqualad hands the key over, and Mr. Nelson turns to an apparently unoccupied patch of air. He shoves the key forward, and golden light crawls outwards and upwards, leaving bare stone behind as the Tower manifests.

++Impressive, huh, Kid?++ Artemis states.

++Optical transducers and a phasing array, Artemis,++ Kid replies unshakably. Ergh. Must remember to ask Constantine about demon summoning. Or take Kid and the team to talk to Swamp Thing. Or just send him to Atlantis. _Something_ to break him of this little Discworld-style-atheism kick he's on.

++Legion,++ Aqualad asks. ++What exactly did Klarion do?++

I shake my head. ++Turns out I stick bits of my soul in the insects to control them. He grabbed one, he got a connection to the rest and used it to shut me down. Not sure why he didn't just kill me.++

++Are you still capable?++

I let out a breath, then crack my neck. ++Can't use insects near the little bastard, but I'll regain anything he tries to hit me with if he wakes up. And I've got the sword.++

Aqualad frowns, but nods as the doors creak open and we start making our way in. I throw a glance over my shoulder at Klarion. He's still curled up, with a cat nuzzling his head. Soap Opera Love Interest is still out of it as well, and probably isn't going anywhere. ++You did take away the half-shirtless guy's stuff, right?++ I ask.

++First thing I grabbed,++ Wallace says smugly.

"The Tower's not exactly normal," Dr. Nelson states, unaware of our silent conversation. "But it'll be friendly enough to you, if you don't lie to it." He looks back at the still-open doors and the paved road beyond. "Those should be-"

A _spear_ of red light slashes through the air, catching him in the chest and hurling him to the ground as claws of the same energy grip the edges of the doors. Klarion staggers upright, form shifting in eye-hurting ways, the cat in his arms. "oH, We wiLl haVE SuCh fuN, My fRieNDs," he says, voice so high-pitched it claws at my ears. I feel more than see him gaze at me. "AnD YOU woN't GEt tO rUin iT, No yoU woN't."

Nelson staggers to his feet, and Superboy rushes to help. ++Run. We need to find the Helmet, now!++ Aqualad shouts mentally. Red Arrow pauses long enough to put arrow to string and send it flying, but Klarion disintegrates it with a wave of his hand and a flare of red light.

++Really wishing we had some heavier firepower right now!++ I say as we hurtle down the corridor, exiting out onto a void that is far larger than the apparent size of the Tower permits. I chance another look back under my shoulder, and see Klarion walking forward, the stones of the Tower warping under his feet. "CoMe aNd PLaY, mY FrIEndS."

Nope. Running faster.

Another transition, into a snowy landscape, leaving a portal in midair, and I come to a stop, the rest of the Team having already done gotten through.

Why is there a glowing cane. _Why._

Dr. Nelson, still half-carried by Superboy, reaches out and grabs the cane, and golden light fills the air.

When it clears, we're on what appears to be the Tower's peak. Fate's Helmet floats in the very center of the roof, unsupported. Dr. Nelson begins to walk towards it, then stumbles, only kept from falling by Superboy's help. "Heh. The one time I have need of the old bastard, and I'm too weak to put him to use," he says quietly.

"The Helmet- it isn't your power?" Miss Martian asks. Nelson chuckles.

"Oh, no. Just a very old and very tough Lord of Order, name of Nabu. Put that helmet on, he takes over your body and fights in the name of Order. I...couldn't stand it, anymore, and neither could Inza." He sighs. "She'd give me hell for this, I just know it."

++No Fate but that we make,++ I think quietly. A _crack_ rings through the air, and part of the stone on the far side of the roof begins to bubble and melt. ++Funny, ain't it?++

++Sounds like a plan to me,++ Superboy broadcasts, letting Nelson down gently.

++Superboy, what are-++

Klarion bursts through with a screech of triumph, scattering molten stone over the roof, as Superboy grabs the helmet and puts it over his head!

Golden light _flares,_ near-blinding, and by the time I blink my vision clear again we're surrounded by a dome of that same light. Superboy's dressed in golden, glowing plate, the Helmet included. "Fear not. Fate has intervened."

Great. Wonder if that was actually funny last time they let Nabu out to play.

Nabu raises a hand, and a giant, glowing ankh appears, held as if it were a sword. Klarion merely grins, red flame flickering around his hands. "Oooh, real scary," he says. "Gonna keep protecting that little bit of the Third Anathema, too?"

"The Third Anathema is prevented and unmade. And you are stalling for time." Nabu _flickers_ forwards, sword coming down and shattering the hastily raised barrier to bite into the Lord of Chaos's shoulder. Klarion _screeches_ in agony, dropping to his knees as the cat at his feet yowls along with him, but manages to dodge the blow that would've removed his head.

"Fine, then! See if I care!" Klarion flickers, and vanishes.

And then Nabu turns his head to stare at me. Then the incredibly ancient Lord of Order's eyes flash gold, and he says a single word.

"Bugger."

###

 **9:42 PM EDT, Thursday, August 19th, 2010**

 **Tower of Fate**

Nabu darts forwards, the barrier parting around him, and I feel my back slam into the stone of the Tower's battlements as he grabs me by the collar.

"Hey, what the hell are you-" Robin starts.

"Be silent, child. This is for your own good." The sword-ankh presses against my throat. "Now, let's see where you're hiding…"

For the second time today, my world goes black, and I find myself standing in a void, glowing like a moron. "You know, this is starting to get real boring."

"Your boredom is immaterial compared to the threat the Third poses." And _there's_ Nabu, just a giant glowing helmet. Makes sense.

"Okay, first off, you called it 'the Third'. That implies there's more than one. _Please_ tell me the Entities aren't repeatedly assaulting this planet."

"You know of them?"

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio-"

"Fine, keep your secrets. So long as they do not trouble this world as the Shard does...and _there_ you are."

[APPROXIMATION]

I expected crystalline flesh. Maybe some eldritch tentacled horror, or, hell, one of those weird fractal things 'bow described when he was talking about Eden.

Instead, a familiar, _human_ shape dropped out of the void, to stand on apparent emptiness like the rest of us.

Black undersuit. White armor with blue lighting. Two manipulator arms coming from a mounted backpack, battered metallic wings from the same. Long, auburn hair, and a right arm that ended in a smooth stump.

I bow. "Hello, Administrator."

[ACCURACY] Gah! Fuck, that hurt!

[UNINTENTIONAL]

"And here I thought your kind lacked the capacity to lie."

I give the Administrator a flat look. "Kinda with the Glowing Head here."

The Administrator shrugs, then turns to Nabu. [QUERY]. Doesn't hurt as much when it's not pointed at me.

"My 'problem' is your existence, shard of the Third. This world is closed to your kind."

[NEGATIVE][CREATION][DISSOLUTE]

"Hrrm. That you are. What is your purpose here, then, if not destruction and conflict?"

It points towards me. [FATE-BREAKER][EXALTATION][DIVERGENCE]

"You are joking, he…" The eyeholes of the helmet visibly narrow. "Now **this** is intriguing."

I raise my hand. "Still no idea what the hell you two are jabbering about, but get the feeling it concerns me and possibly my existence. So could one or both of you take a couple minutes to explain things?"

"There are multiple Anathemas, things that threaten all life in the known universe," Nabu says flatly. "The first is the Anti-Life Equation, and its wielder. The second is the Black Light, and its wielders. The third are the Parasites, the World-Eaters."

[OBJECTION][IDENTIFICATION]

"Let me guess. Stupidly powerful, trying to outlast the universe, makes sentient races experience slow societal breakdown by seeding them with powers, then explodes their planet and spawns?"

[...ACCURACY]

"They claimed thousands of worlds, until the Presence intervened. Almerac. Tamaran. Krypton."

Nabu pauses. "Millennia ago, one of their mated pairs sought to consume Earth, all the Earths that were and could have been. Through the betrayal of one of their own and the efforts of one of those worlds, one was killed and the survivor eliminated a mere thirty years later. But the devastation was immense, and the Presence acted- fifty-two worlds were sealed away from possible interaction with the Third and it's kin, to protect it if they ever turned their eyes upon it once more. And now a shard of the Third has entered that which should be impossible to enter."

"So, let me guess. You're going to kill me to preserve the sanctity of the multiverse or some such?" I ask.

"No."

I blink. "No?"

"Did I stutter, mortal?"

"But-" I point at the Administrator. "Continent-sized eldritch supercomputer and horror! Right! There!"

"Also one that has accepted its limits and does not seek to destroy the planet. The Red itself judged it to not be a threat. If I sought to destroy it and you for the threat it _might_ pose...extinguishing your life would result in my current wearer becoming recalcitrant, and likely my own destruction at the hands of your mentors. My annihilation would do more harm than the good generated by the shard being banished." Nabu somehow gives the impression of a shrug. "I am a being of Order. The shard poses no threat, but I had to make certain. Now, let us inform your companions. They are...somewhat displeased."

I blink as the world suddenly comes back into existence. A glowing barrier made of ankhs has sprung up around me and Nabu, who still has the ankh-sword at my throat. Beyond it, my teammates are talking among themselves, gesturing at the scorch marks and chipped stone right outside the line of gold. The ankh-sword vanishes, and Nabu lets go of my collar, dropping me to the ground.

++Legion! Are you alright? What...why did Fate attack you?++

"Lower your weapons. The youth is not the threat I presumed him to be."

"Mind telling us what that was, O _Great Lord of Order_?" Kid Flash asks, snark dripping from every syllable.

"It is not your concern."

++Long story, explain it back at the Cave,++ I broadcast quickly as the Team's expressions turn angry.

"I require a promise from you, Atlantean, before I am separated from my wearer."

Aqualad looks unhappy, but nods slowly.

"Find me a willing bearer. This world has need of Fate, with Klarion loose. And I will not steal your companion away, not even after fifty years of the dark."

"I promise."

Nabu shudders, then reaches up and pulls the Helmet off, the armor fading and leaving Superboy behind. The Boy of Steel looks at the Helmet in his hands, then hurls it away from him, sending it clanking to the ground with a growl. He looks around wildly for a moment, and then-

"El? Kinda need my ribs back," I manage to wheeze. He lets me out of the hug somewhat reluctantly.

++Was not expecting that about Superboy,++ M'gann says, before blushing as the rest of the Team looks at her.

"I...saw a lot, through Nabu," El manages to get out. "That…. _thing._ And you called it by name!"

Oooooh shit.

 **11:31 PM EDT, Thursday, August 19th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"They're called Entities," I say. "Or, at least they were in what I read."

"Your...text, mentions them?" Kaldur asks. I shake my head and hunch over my coffee.

"No. The strange thing is, it was published as fiction in my world, over the Internet, by a man named Wildbow. A 'realistic' superhero setting," I say, making finger quotes. "No idea how the _fuck_ they're real, but at this point I'm not surprised."

"And...what were they, exactly? And how did you recognize one?"

"Yeah, start with that," Artemis says, eyes narrowed. I push down everything into the swarm, let out a breath.

"The main character was a girl by the name of Taylor Hebert. Her life story was pretty damn horrifying, and she got powers. Insect control, to be exact."

Kaldur's eyes widen slightly, but he motions for me to continue.

"A...lot of things happened. She ended up being pushed into being a supervillain...no, that's not the correct word. An anti-villain? Someone who does horrible things for a good cause. The local heroes were corrupt, the existing authorities hated her...nobody gave her a chance except for a group of teenage supervillains, and they became her only real friends." I pause. "That's the background. But, as the story kept going, it became obvious something was very, very wrong with the way powers worked. What was eventually revealed was that every power was the result of a shard of these Entities binding themselves to the minds of people who went through horrific trauma, solely so the abilities of the shard would be used in combat and take in data. Evolve. Never was stated just _what_ those Entities wanted from using the planet as a petri dish. The one left on Earth went mad, and Taylor...she broke her power, used it to puppet people, unite every hero, villain, and everyone else across all the iterations of Earth she could find, to kill the bastard." I wave my hand. "When Fate talked to me and my power, it appeared like she did, during that battle. Probably because it knew I'd recognize her- it, that way."

"Didn't look like a girl to me," El says from his spot on another chair. "Looked…" He stops, and shivers visibly. "Looked _wrong_."

"They called her shard, her power, Queen Administrator," I say. "And I _pray_ to the Red, the Green, and the Clear that it being here is the only part of those stagnant Lovecraftian dumbfucks that ever finds this place."

"How...how did you know you had one before Fate told you, though?" El asks. I tap the side of my skull.

"Powers there are marked by the presence of two new regions of brain growth. STAR Labs ran a MRI," I say simply.

"And you didn't tell us?!" Shit he's angry.

"How could I? If I told you when we first met I would've looked insane! I kept an eye out, watching STAR Labs reports on anything that could've been someone like me, someone with another shard, and...nothing. The moment I found something I would've told everyone, same as I did when I found out about the Red and how it worked. Otherwise, it'd just be me, given one by a quirk of fate." I let out a breath, lower my eyes. "I...I'm sorry. I should have trusted you more, but…"

Kaldur puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Yes. You should have. And we _will_ inform the League. Together."


	3. Arc Three: Consolidation

AN: Sorry about the formatting on Legion's speech here. I _know_ it's inconsistent, but I don't have the time or motivation to fix all 20k or so words.

 **4:07 PM EDT, Saturday, August 21st, 2010**

 **Salem**

It's almost ludicrous, how sunny it is. It shouldn't be this way, not for a funeral.

Dr. Nelson's actual funeral is elsewhere. Even now, far too few people know who he was. What he accomplished...though, in a roundabout way, all he did was find the Helmet. _Nabu_ did the rest.

For that, though, for bringing a Lord of Order back out into the world...he deserves more than we could give him.

Red Tornado gives the eulogy. Some cry. Others don't.

A quarter mile southwest, a rodent burrow is buried in a flood of ants. In the woods to the east, bees swarm and buzz. To the north, mosquitos and gnats hurl themselves into the mouths of waiting predators. But I am dry-eyed and calm as they lower the casket in.

At least here, there's the comfort that he'll see the woman he loves again.

It should be raining. But the universe here is neither fair, nor bound to a narrative.

The ceremony ends quietly, and we start to go our separate ways. Mr. Queen and Artemis go off into the woods, while others simply wander off into the town. Others knew Dr. Nelson better, and gather around the grave.

"You're going to be placed under arrest," the swarm hears Mr. Queen say.

Oh _hell_ no.

 _Defend colony!_

Wait wait wait...okay, there's no way they'd do this quietly, why-

"Seems like a good story," Artemis says frigidly. "I'll see what I can find out from him."

"Thanks...for doing this." He puts a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugs it off.

"I don't like it, but if it lets us figure out whatever the hell is going on in Belle Reve…: She shrugs. "I'll deal with it. Easy job."

Mr. Queen leaves, heading in the direction of the town, but Artemis stays put. The moment Queen is out of earshot, she glares directly at the spider watching her from the tree branch. "You heard all that, didn't you?"

" _Almost went and attacked Green Arrow,"_ the swarm buzzes. " _Since you aren't_ actually _being arrested...it's your call to tell anyone else, same as it's his call to inform the Team. I've got secrets, same as you, same as M'gann, same as R- Robin. It'd be better if we_ didn't _, but that's the name of the game when we start wearing spandex and punching criminals in the face."_

She stops dead. "You'd have attacked Green Arrow?"

" _For this team? I'd have fought the whole League."_

"I don't….I don't need your damn _pity,"_ she says quickly.

" _Not pity. Never pity. Only the need to protect."_

Her hands knot into fists for a moment. "Go away. Please."

I pull all that is _me_ away from her, and move my human self towards the parked Bio-ship.

 **8:03 AM EDT, Sunday, August 22nd, 2010**

 **Happy Harbor**

"You're serious." The manager gives me a flat look. I nod.

"Entirely."

The middle-aged, slightly thickset man sighs. "Okay, kid, how much do you know about the laws about selling metahuman goods?"

I shrug. "A fair amount. Mostly the fact that technology or anything _really_ interesting, especially mad scientist stuff, is so heavily restricted it's actually slightly more profitable to rob a bank with your doom laser rather than go into the weapons market with it."

Note to self: find politicians responsible, fill their pillowcases with centipedes. There's at least six cases where mad scientist types who couldn't sell their inventions turned to crime to support themselves, Doctor Sivana being the biggest example.

"Yeah, and your stuff is different _how_ exactly?"

I sigh. "There's nothing mad-sciencey about silk clothing, Mr. Romero. Only thing is, it's usually impossible to harvest it from spiders. Me? I'm capable of telling them to spin as much as I need, and weave it as well."

"No creepy bug-control helmet or insane pheromone thing? Just your own abilities?"

"Would I bother lying if you could find out so easily?"

"Heh. Fine, then. Price to set up's a hundred fifty. Covers insurance, renting fees, the usual. Get here an hour before the market opens to set up."

I nod.

 **10:08 AM EDT, Sunday, August 22nd, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"I still don't get why you're bothering to use your powers for this," Artemis says dubiously. I still have no idea why she's here. Thought she was still mad at me.

"Which 'this' do you mean?" I ask, still bent over the wiring I'm starting to layer into the floor. Finding the right symbols didn't take long, but consulting with Zatara on the right way to make magic circles and explaining _why_ I wanted it _did._ "The magic stuff, or the selling of insect products?"

"The second one."

"You know I'm technically a ward of the League, right? No family, no documents beyond what they've got, no real secret identity. Actually, I'm not even sure I have citizenship anywhere. Haven't bothered to check."

"And that ties into selling silk clothing...how?"

"Batman pays my salary and room and board for being part of the Team. Which means he _knows_ everything I purchase, and for a lot of my expenses I have to get approval from him or Kaldur, especially stuff for superheroics."

"So? Green Arrow helps me get what I need, too, and he wants to approve my arrows before I use them."

"Green Arrow's _sane._ "

The swarm sees her gaze harden. "Batman isn't _crazy._ "

"Ask him about guns, you'll think different, I assure you," I say, not looking up from my work. "Part of what I earn is going to pay for pistol and rifle classes at whatever range I can find. Another's going to go into ordering custom ammunition and weaponry."

"You're going to buy _guns._ "

"Less expensive than a railgun or plasma cannon, less collateral damage, and I don't have to deal with STAR Labs complaining if some villain manages to destroy it. Plus, again, custom ammunition. Dr. Nelson-" Something catches in my throat, and I stop for a moment before continuing to lay down the patterns of silver wire. "If we'd had some Order-infused bullets, we might have been able to put down Klarion and keep Dr. Nelson from dying."

"It's also a lot easier to _kill_ people with a gun. You understand that, right? We're superheroes, that's not what we _do!_ "

"Ask Wonder Woman about the Second World War, or, hell, Red Arrow about his rampage through the Shadows' base," I reply. "And I'm not suggesting we shoot everyone who's in our way. But there are things out there that would benefit greatly from an anti-them bullet to the brain. Demons, Lords of Chaos, hell, you could count Lords of Order as well for some of those assholes. Malevolent spirits and ghosts, if you load the rounds with salt and iron, can be shot down. And there's always the possibility of a zombie apocalypse, Lantern-based or not."

"Lantern-based zombies."

I shrug. "Nabu said the 'wielders of the Black Light' were the 'Second Anathema'. Pretty sure that means Black Lanterns, and that means zombies that want to eat the hearts of the living."

"You're joking."

"We have a man in the League who breaks reality by talking backwards. Lantern zombies are not _nearly_ as ridiculous."

"Okay, you know what, I…" She stops. "I actually don't have a response to that," she finally admits.

"Magic is bullshit?"

"That works." She looks at the completed part of the wire inlay for a few moments, and there's only the rustling of the swarm to break the silence.

"So, you and Superboy, huh?"

"What."

"Just saying, he seemed pretty happy about Nabu's decision, and a lot worried about you, specifically." The swarm sees her smirk. Good Lord, we have _shippers._

I sigh, and rest my forehead on the uprooted floor panelling stacked in front of me, cooling the heat burning my face. "Artemis. For one, El is way too young, for both his biological and chronological ages. Second, I wouldn't _want_ to pursue a relationship with the kind of…" I wave my hand vaguely, "...disturbing connotations that romancing someone who's only been out of a cryo-pod for a few weeks would have. Third, I'm straight. Or…" I think about it. Huh. "...used to be, before I went and got myself turned into a bug elemental. Not sure I qualify anymore."

I _really_ need to ask Mr. J'onzz for a clean bill of mental health. Down in my rooms, a group of ironclads and hercules beetles write down the errant thought on a notepad.

"Oh. Does he...know that?"

"If not, I'll ask him," I grunt. "Didn't...think much of it, to be honest."

"Heh. M'gann's going to be so disappointed."

I groan. "She found the Internet, didn't she?"

"Uh-huh. You know people noticed you and him working together when that bridge in Metropolis started cracking, right? There's footage of you going all swarmy and using a horde of spiders to build webs and stop traffic from slamming into the school bus."

"Let me guess, there's plenty of inventive ideas about the use of bugs?" I snark, focusing on the work. Her grin widens.

"Wonderful. Just wonderful. Can we please change the subject?"

"Fine. Why're you ripping up the floor here for this wiring?"

"Giant magic capacitor," I say. "Turns out, while _I_ have about as much magical power as the average idiot, what I _can_ do is set up something to feed magic to me. All I've got to do is make sure what happens _here_ is aligned with the Red, specifically insect life, and leave enough of myself in there to keep it going, and it'll empower any magic I do. Now I've got to go back to London and bug Ms. Sackville for some tomes on basic ritual and shielding."

"Not planning to let yourself get left helpless again, huh?"

"Never."

 _Defend from threat!_

"I get that," she says quietly.

 **5:42 AM EDT, Friday, August 27th**

 **Gotham City**

" _Aqualad? Earth to Aqualad,"_ I/we buzz. Our fearless leader looks up, eyes refocusing.

" _Please tell these crazy bastards that trying to split up and punch a clay elemental to unconsciousness doesn't work,"_ I/we say exasperatedly.

Aqualad blinks, then immediately looks at Kid Flash. He sighs. "The creature is...protean in nature, yes?"

" _Bugs are being shed quickly, and lots of the local clay in the sewers is getting sucked into where I_ think _it is, so yes."_

He smiles. "Then extreme heat or cold should serve as an effective deterrent."

"I packed thermite," Robin says quickly.

Aqualad smiles slightly. "Let us move quickly, then. I do not believe allowing this creature to continue it's rampage would be wise."

 **6:31 AM EDT, Friday, August 27th, 2010**

 **Gotham City**

I am calm. I am calm. I am swarm and man, many and one. The Red flows through me, into the spell. Breathe. In. Out.

Clayface slams its fists into the barrier keeping it trapped, and several dozen ants in the immense colony in the heart of the Mountain die as the spell _strains._

Breathe. In. Out.

I sit crosslegged, the unconscious forms of my teammates around me. The damn thing had ambushed us. Only the basic shield spell I'd memorized was serving to keep it contained. We hadn't even gotten a chance to use the thermite due to the sheer quantity of clay, most of which was still scattered around the warehouse. If the creature escaped-

The barrier wavers.

No. No. I am calm. I am swarm and man, many and one. The Red is my anchor and the ocean surrounding it. The spell _will_ hold. The bees sacrifice to defend the hive.

"Legion."

Batman.

"Sir."

"Can you maintain the shield?"

In. Out. Ignore the burning ants as Clayface hammers at the red-glowing dome.

"Not much longer."

"Green Lantern is minutes away."

"That's a relief, sir."

In. Out. I am many and one.

"How do you plan to contain it, sir?" I ask.

"Once Lantern takes over we can transfer it securely to STAR Labs," the Caped Crusader says. He looks behind me. "The others?"

In. Out. The Red fuels the spell, the ants fuel the Red. All is a cycle. "Unconscious and battered, but alive and breathing," I say tightly. "Bastard grabbed all the clay he could find, hid here, and hit us the moment we entered."

Couldn't move. Couldn't _breathe._ Every insect I'd brought, crushed in an instant under the clay.

The barrier shakes, and I focus again. In. Out. I am of the Red. Ants swarm to protect their queen.

"Aqualad lasted the longest...how you'd find us, sir?"

"Every insect in a half-mile radius has been heading for this warehouse, which is glowing brightly," Batman replies flatly.

"Ah. Heh. Is Gotham PD on the way, then?"

"They've been informed staying clear is in their best interest."

In. Out. It will hold.

"Good. That's good."

Green light outside the windows, clashing with the red of the dome. Stewart, or Jordan. Not sure. Don't care at the moment.

Calm. I am calm.

Clayface slams one immense fist into the dome, and it fractures before thirty-odd ants die in red flame and it repairs itself.

Calm.

 **8:16 AM EDT, Friday, August 27th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

It is late (or early, really), I am tired, and I will be consuming more coffee than is physically possible for a human being the moment I get the chance.

Currently, however, we have a slight problem- namely, our team leader pining for the fjords.

++Usually he's the level-headed one...the hell are we supposed to do if he blanks out like that during a critical point in a mission?++ I ask. I don't have a need to shower or clean up like the others, so I'm simply waiting outside, eyes shut.

++You've...kinda got a point there, Legion,++ Wally says grudgingly. ++I haven't seen Kaldur like this before. What gives?++

++He's been away from home a long time...maybe he misses someone? His family?++ M'gann ponders.

++I'm betting a girlfriend,++ I say. ++He's basically Atlantean military, right? I'll bet the first jar of clover honey from my hives that he's pining for her, same as anyone on a deployment would for their significant other++ I pause. ++Batman looks like he wants to talk to him alone. Should I…?++

++Privacy, dude. It's still a thing,++ Wally snarks.

++Fine, fine.++ I move the elements of the swarm that had hidden themselves in the cave ceiling away. ++He puts spyware on my computer, I should be able to bug him.++

++Wait, _what?_ ++ El asks. ++Batman's spying on you?++

++No confirmation, but I have the shard of a world-obliterating monstrosity in my head and he's fucking _Batman._ Of course he's spying on me. Can't say I blame him- if I start writing 'Ia! Ia! Cthulu fthagn!' in Word it'd be kinda important.++

++Batman wouldn't do that!++ M'gann objects.

++Actually, he kinda would,++ Richard says. ++No offense Legion, but you _are_ walking ecological devastation waiting to happen.++

++Again, don't care,++ I say. ++I'd do the same thing.++

++So, what, you don't care that he doesn't trust you?++ El snarls.

++Pretty sure Batman trusts _nobody_ , save Robin here. Maybe Kal-El, but he's basically a walking personification of good-old-boy-ness.++ I send the impression of a shrug. ++So yeah, not important.++

There's some silence.

++Right. Back on topic. Aqualad. Any-++

 _Holy shit how did the bastard sneak up on me!_

"Gah!" I grab at my chest theatrically. "How the _hell_ do you keep pulling that off, sir?"

"Practice." I might have just seen a- tiny- smile, which probably means lack of caffeine is making me hallucinate. He looks at the door. "Aqualad will be departing for Poseidonis. The rest of the team should head home as well."

"No debriefing?"

"I'll expect a report...but no, not after this."

I nod. "Understood, sir."

 **12:04 AM NZT, Saturday, August 28th**

 **9:01 AMNew Zealand, North Islands**

I take a sip of my coffee, and stare at the local numbskulls. "Well now," I drawl. "Looks like we've got ourselves a situation. Ya see, those there bee hives? You ain't supposed to be touchin' them."

One immediately wheels about and fires his shotgun at me. The pellets don't even touch me as I allow the body to dissolve into the swarm, forming anew behind them, coffee still in hand. Mr. Williams was more than willing to put a pot on when I stopped by last time, and even more willing to tell me about the troubles he's been having with thieves.

"Trying to kill a man over some beehives and fancy honey. What's the world coming to?" I ask. The thugs whirl about, and the idiot with the shotgun raises it before one of his buddies puts a hand on his chest and stops him.

"We don't want any trouble. We just want the hives," he says carefully. I shrug.

"Then you kinda do want trouble." I grin as I reach out to the hives, making them me. "Do you know just how many bees there are in one of these operations?" I ask lightly as the sound of buzzing fills the air.

Aaaaand they're running. This won't do at all.

I let go of the bees- not letting any bits of my soul stay lying about- and reform myself from an anthill and several clusters of mosquitos just down the road they're running down, stepping out into the street. The frontrunner stops dead, and is nearly knocked to the ground by his buddies. I grin.

"Now, you might be thinkin' you can come back another night, mess about with Williams and his farm sometime else," I say, taking quick strides forward. "You're wrong." Redbacks, huntsmen, and orb weavers scuttle out from the woods, blocking their escape, and I'm within grappling distance before they can think clearly enough to push past me, grabbing one by the neck. He's weedy and I'm large, and I lift him up by his shirt collar, other hand still holding my coffee. "Tell your friends, tell your bosses. This? It's under my protection. He or the Missus get so much as a stubbed toe...my little friends have your scent, and they'll eat you alive."

I drop the sobbing man to the tarmac, and rejoin the swarm.

Six minutes and a quick reassurance to Mr. Williams and his wife later- lovely people, always willing to lend advice- and I'm back in the Mountain.

 **12:23 PM EDT, Friday, August 27th**

 **Mount Justice**

Fuck timezones, I have zeta tubes.

++Legion! You're back late,++ M'gann says worriedly. ++What happened?++

++Just some morons in New Zealand,++ I think back at her. ++Nothing to be concerned about.++

++You didn't hurt them too badly, did you?++

++Intimidation, not battery, M'gann,++ I reply. ++They were going after some friends of mine-++

Defend colony!

++-so I stopped them, and scared the piss out of them. No harm done.++

++Oh...alright.++ She sounds...hesitant. Afraid.

Hmm. Maybe I should dial it back.

++Anything planned for today?++ I ask mentally as I reach out to the bits of me still present in the Mountain, checking up on both the ant colony and the spiders spinning the latest set of silk clothes. The first batch sold out fast, faster than I thought they would. Probably the '100% Natural' guarantee. Or the fact that they could take low-caliber bullets. Not sure.

++Oh, um- well, I was going to try some new recipes for dinner...honestly, though, after what happened last night…++

++Gotcha. How's El?++

++He's...still working it out. Think he's up in the gym.++

++I'll look in on him, thanks.++

Even without M'gann pointing him out, it's easy to find El- the sound of reinforced equipment being put through its paces, and the angry, sharp sounds of someone trying to punch his rage away, are clearly audible the moment one enters the level housing the large gym. The door hisses open, and I enter. El's working out punches and combinations on one of the heavily reinforced bags- not his training for fighting other brawlers, just aggression and the need to hit something. I sympathize- it was half the reason I went off to New Zealand, the need to do something pushing me forward even with only an hour's snatched rest.

"Now what did that bag ever do to you?" I ask. El whirls, then relaxes slightly when he sees it's me.

"Nothing," he says mulishly. "Just...working on it."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Fine," he admits. "Kaldur's gone, and everyone seems to think he's going to come back, and everything's going to be just fine, but...what if he doesn't?"

Huh. That's usually the kind of tone he reserves when talking about Superm- ohhhh shit.

Dammit, I am not the one who should be dealing with this.

"If he doesn't, fuck him, we'll find a new leader," I say flatly. El blinks.

"You don't care?"

"I do care, about this team. He quits, he obviously has prioritized something else over the Team. In that case, I wish him luck, but we'll have to move on."

"That's...cold."

I throw up my hands. "Everyone keeps saying that! It's utilitarian."

El gives me a Look. "Kaldur...he's our friend, and you don't really seem to care about him leaving. Why can't it be both?"

"Fine, fine. Look, I am worried about it, but I can't do anything. So I'm going to hope he comes back...and maybe make plans for if he doesn't."

"Paranoia?"

"Not if they really are out to get you," I say with a smile. "C'mon. I'm going to go see if I can bake a decent cake."

"Heh. Fine. Better than your attempts at bacon."

"Not my fault it's so easily carbonized," I grumble as El grabs a duffle bag and puts on a clean shirt. But he's smiling, so...success?

###

 **11:29 PM EEST, Friday, September 3rd, 2010**

 **Bialya**

++Legion, infiltrate the outpost and determine exactly _what_ is going on there,++ Aqualad orders. I nod slightly, then touch the Atlantean protection amulet at my throat. Kaldur had picked it up, even with the nastiness of a Black Manta attack interrupting his sojourn. It's joined the blue bead and silver nugget on my series of necklaces.

"Luck," I breathe, before _joining_ with the swarm. I hadn't expected finding much, but the local insects have adapted wonderfully, and those my body dissolves into match their native brethren. Desert ants and spiders sneak under the sand and the flaps of the tent. Not enough to get more than blurry vision...large shapes, some sort of...machine?"

Electricity crackles, and the machine starts _screaming._

++Either the Bialyans power their industry on the screams of children, or they're torturing a mechanical lifeform,++ I report coldly. ++We should-++

++Hmm. Someone else watching? Oh, _there_ you are, little spiders,++ a new voice says.

++M'gann, mindshield n-++

++ _Forget.++_

….

 _Now, that's an oddity. Why ain't a girl like you helpin' him? You did for that little bag o' chaos._

[NECESSARY][DIFFERENCE]

...

 _Heh. He's calling on us to help. Don't see why not. Ya know what it's gonna do ta him, though._

[AGREEMENT][INDIFFERENCE]

….

 _Ya just gonna watch and see, aren't ya? That's mighty cold._

[NECESSITY][FATE-BREAKER][EXALTATION]

…..

 _The swarm pulls itself out of the sand. The larger creatures bugle and try to cluster, to fight back with fire and blasts of air and metal. It avails them not._

 _Some of these creatures are similar to the attackers. But they are marked as of the hive, if not of the swarm. The swarm does not understand why, but it obeys the markings, and leaves them be._

 _The swarm brings its components together. The large creatures are trying to climb onto moving-rocks, vehicles, conveyances. They do not make it far. The swarm sacrifices components to render them inoperable._

 _The swarm-queen is formed, but it is weak. It is made_ stronger _, and the creatures bugle louder as they run to and fro._

 _The creatures are an annoyance. And a possible threat to the hive. Many of its members are squishy._

 _And the swarm is hungry._

 **What?**

 **Where?**

Uuuuhh…

Sand? Where…

My eyes snap open, and I sit up quickly. Where _the hell_ am I?

I look around slowly from my position on the ground. I'm in a...tent?...of some kind. There's what looks like a pile of computers, right out of a video game, flashing lights and all. They're also splattered with what I'm pretty sure is dried blood. Next to them is the smashed remains of what had probably been some kind of machinery. And more dried blood.

If I've died and my afterlife is a horror video game, I'm going to act out Penny Arcade's version of God of War IV.

Okay, okay. Time to get up. Time to-

What the fuck is wrong with my hand. _What the fuck is wrong with my hand!_

I stare blankly at the dull brown plates that cover my hand, turning it over slowly. I have claws. Claws.

My face, my whole body, feels _wrong._ Mirror. I need a-

Suddenly I can see... myself. The picture is fragmented and a little bit off, but…

Insects. I'm seeing through insects.

I stare numbly through hundreds of eyes.

Oh God.

Brown plating covers my body, head to toe, and my legs...my legs have become digitigrade and three-toed, tipped with long claws and a dewclaw on the opposite side. I think I'm taller and much lankier than I was...I carefully get to my feet. Feels strange...but natural at the same time. Some more insects fly closer, allowing me to examine my...head. More dark brown carapace covers it, flaring out to the sides and top, leaving normal, human eyes surrounded by chitinous armor. I have...mandibles, jutting to the sides of a mouth filled with needle-like teeth.

"Sker _aaaa_."

Oh fuck me, I can't even _speak_ properly.

Okay. Okay. What the fuck is going on, where the fuck am I, and why do I look like the mutant offspring of a praying mantis and a Terraformar? Is this some kind of fucked-up dream? I poke the plates on my forearm. "Scureeeee."

Uh-huh. Not a dream. This is going to be fucking wonderful, isn't it.

Okay. Figure out where I am, where civilization is, and if everyone else looks like I do and I've been made to 'fit in' with the locals by some B.R.O.B. Those sound like good priorities.

Also, I can see through insects...how many-?

Whoa.

Suddenly I can see everything _,_ _feel_ everything, to what seems an incredible distance. I can…

Ohhh God that's a lot of bones. And blood. And various bits of things.

How many...there have to be at least three dozen people. Gnawed down to bones and gristle.

By what? What's…

The bugs.

Did...I? Do this?

"Haask."

Fuck you impossible-to-speak-with threshing mouth of doom and lamprey-ness.

Okay, okay, panic time, Y/N?

YYYYYYYY

"SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

++H͡oly s̡h҉i̸t̡ h̶oly͟ ͟s̛hi͏t ͜h̶o̸l̸y͝ s̴hit͢ ͝wh͘a͏t͜ ̕t͠h̨e͟ fuck̷-̵-̀͘͠++

++Legion? What are- are you alright?++

A voice in my head. Young, female. ++W͠hǫ the̷ ̢fúck̴ ̧a̛re͝ ͜you,̴ m͘yster̴ious̕ v̧o̢i͘c̵e, a͡nd̛ ẁh̵at ͡do̧ yo͝u͡ wąn̨t w͡įth ͠me҉?++

++I...guys, we have a problem.++

++The giant dome of insects didn't clue you in?++ Another, this one male.

++Geto͜utg̴e͢to͢u͢t͏g̸eto̴ut̶get́oųt̡ge̛t̢out̷++

The voice vanishes, and a pressure in my head I hadn't even noticed goes with it. Good fucking riddance.

Okay, okay, I've killed someone, possibly several someones, and now I have people trying to speak into my mind. Or the last fragile threads of my sanity have snapped and I've gone straight to hearing voices in my head. Yay me.

The voice is back.

++Legion?++

++T́h͜a͝ţ's͞ ͜ņot͟ my ͘n̡a̴m͜e҉. ͜My ̛n̕a͘m͠ȩ i͡s-̧ is͢-͘ ̨is-++

Name is gone. Oh god.

"SKREEE!"

++It's alright, it's alright.++ She's trying to keep me calm. Why is she trying. I don't even know her.

++You don't- alright. Okay. A telepath attacked you. I think you took the brunt of the attack, but I was able to shield the others. I think...I think he took away your memories.++

++I..͢.́I…̨++

++I...think...I can fix that, but I need to be closer, and...your bugs are swarming too thickly. Can you...let me in? Please?++

Calm. Calm. Deep breaths. Stop the stirring of...huh. I have wings. Big ones. Didn't notice.

++Oka̕y͢. O͏ka̷y. I ̨c̸a̢n ̴d͠o ̨t́h͠a͡t. ͝Į ͠c̛a͟n͟ ́do t̸ha̷t.̴++

I can see far, with my bugs, with the swarm. I see a green-skinned girl in dark clothing crest a dune, floating closer. Some kind of alien? She...says we're teammates. Could she be lying?

If she is, I will eat her.

Okay, where the _fuck_ did that train of thought come from?

Well, I'm a bug-man, so that's probably where. Great. Going to have to watch myself, then.

The bugs part at my command, letting her through.

She sees the bodies, and the wrecked vehicles, and doesn't stop, though she looks worried. I bring my body out of the tent as she draws closer, and _that_ makes her stop and stare.

++I didn't...what _happened_ to you?++ she asks, not speaking.

"Hsssk." ++I'm͜ ͜a͠ss͏u͟m͞i̕ng̵ ̴th͢i̵s̛ ̡mea̶ns̕ ̕I͝ ̀d̨on'̵t norma͏lĺy ͞l̢oo̡k l̸i͟ke̸ ͞s̶o̴męt͜h͏i̡n̢g that fea̛st̕s on ̸hum̛an͞ ̵m̕i͏se͢r҉y,.́++ I think at her as hard as I can. She winces, and puts a hand to her temple.

"No! You looked...normal," she says, out loud this time. The sound is strange and wavering. She nods, though, determined, before looking into the tent. "Where's the machine?"

++Th̶è ͠w̕haţ?̧++

"The Bialyans...they had some kind of machine here, they were...torturing it. Then the telepath attacked, and…" she shrugs. "It must've escaped. Let's...let's just see if we can get your memories back, first," she says.

++I̵ don'̷t ҉k̷now͘ wh̀o y̡oú ̸a̧re.͝ ͟W͜hy͟ śho͝u̧l̨d ̶I̢ t̶ru͏st͜ ͏y͞o̧u͏?++

She takes a step back as my body straightens, looming over her by a couple feet.

"Al-alright," she says carefully. "I know you don't know me. I know it's probably a shock, coming to...all this. You told us you came from a parallel Earth, without magic, aliens, or anything like we have. You couldn't remember your name when you first came here, either. You picked Grant, Grant Alvear, as your new one. You've been working with us for the past few months, working for the Justice League."

++U̡h̛-͘hùh́. ̡W̡o̷r͠k͞in҉g ͡for̕ som̷e͟t͟hing out̵ of͏ a̧ c̵omi͞c͘ ̴b͠o͏ơk͡.͡ ́T͞ota̴ll̵y͢ t̶hin̴king ̛yòų'r̨e̡ ̛t͟ŕu̴s̀t̷w̧ort̵hy̷.̕ ̡Ye͞s̵.++

Now she looks pissed. Don't care.

"Believe me or not. But I want to _help_ you."

How many levels of fucked am I if I let the telepath into my brain? Probably a lot. But it's not like I have a choice. Don't know how big this desert is.

++F͟ine͢. Do͘ wh̡a̶t͟ ̵y͜o͝u'̢ve go͜t ̷t͘o d̢o.̀ ̸I͏'̡d l̕iké s̸o̸m̀e d̕a̷m͏n ̡c͢on̷t̕e͞x҉t.++

She reaches out, places hands just behind my crest.

And I _remember._

###

 **Canon Omake: Psimon Fucks Up**

Psimon smiled thinly as he felt the memories of the young fool who had attempted to infiltrate their camp shatter under his might. His alterations might have been painful to earn, and rendered him someone set away from society, but that was a small price to pay for moments like this.

"Continue to keep up a close watch," he said to the nearest Bialyan officer. "We may have company soon."

He could have _sworn_ he'd felt other minds, linked to the young hive mind...no matter. They would be just as vulnerable to his talents as the other. It would be-

What was that buzzing noise?

He strode out of the tent, ignoring the technicians conducting their tests of the alien sphere, and winced as gunfire ripped through the air.

What were they-

Oh dear.

As he stared out of the tent at the swarms of insects swirling around the camp, Psimon began to feel that he may have miscalculated.

The feeling intensified as he reached out with his mind, and found nothing to attack, nothing to subvert- just animal instinct. He focused on hiding his presence, trying to trick the swarm into not noticing him.

It grew as a horde of ants poured past his feet and into the tent, and the research team started screaming.

It got still worse as the Desert Lions detail set to guard the outpost had their vehicles jammed with bugs. Only a single tank managed to start moving, before the treads were clogged completely with bugs. Most of the other soldiers were not so lucky.

As Psimon watched, the swarm coalesced in the center of the camp, utterly ignoring the bullets and grenades that poured into it from the soldiers not covered by the carpet of insects.

As a hulking shape grew in the midst of the cloud, forming an insectile, _alien_ shape, the sole functioning tank managed to rotate it's turret.

Psimon felt his ears pop as the main gun fired at the blurry shape in the cloud. The shock of impact blasted the cloud to shreds and sent sand flying, but-

As he stared at the monstrosity holding the still-cooling metal of the tank round in one clawed hand, Psimon realized that he had made a _serious_ error.

"SKREEEEE!"

While the _damned thing_ focused on tearing the tank to shreds, and, judging by the screaming, _eating_ the rest of the Desert Lions, Psimon turned and ran.

"SKREEEEE!"

He was not fast enough.

###

 **12:23 AM EEST, Saturday, September 4th, 2010**

 **Bialya**

Walking with digitigrade legs is a pain in the ass.

"Skurrrr." ++D͢une͝s.̸ I ̷hate͞ ̛th͢e͞m.̶ So̸ m̨u͜c̢h̕.̕++

++You could just turn into bugs, you know,++ M'gann says.

I raise a clawed finger, then lower it. ++P̛óiņt.̷++ A moment's thought, and the pile of Nope that is my body dissolves into the swarm.

Okay, _this_ feels normal. And the fact I just thought that should probably make me worry about my sanity all over again.

Fuck it, I'm a goddamn superhero, being slightly unhinged is probably part of the job description.

I've made sure to pull _myself_ out of the insects in the...remains, of the Bialyan camp, and I'm not sensing anything in the direction we're headed. I guess they're all concentrated there.

I shove down the urge to scream at the reminder that I've killed forty people effortlessly, and crest the next dune in the form of a roiling cloud of bugs, the larger flyers picking up and hauling their slower ground-bound compatriots. Just ahead is the Bio-ship.

++Hey, he's back!++ No shit Kid, do you see another cloud of bugs anywhere else?

++And what the heck is _that?_ ++

Parts of the swarm turn as the sound of a heavy vehicle moving rings through the air.

That...huh. The machine escaped. The giant sphere comes to a halt in front of the swarm, then begins to warble excitedly.

I...hrrm. ++Fine, ̡fine, ̀y͢ou can̸ c͏o͘me aĺo͜ng.͟++

++!++

Alarm from Miss Martian. Why? ++W̴ḩa͝t? Is̴ it̷ ̸an̵ év͡i̷l͟ ͟r͟obot̨?++

++Legion...I wasn't helping you send your thoughts to it. Do you...are you a telepath, in this form?++

++What do you mean, 'this form'?++ Kid asks. I grin mentally, and gather the swarm, _rebuilding_ myself.

++Gah!++

++Whoa.++

++...Why are you guys freaking out?++

Thanks, Superboy. You're a peach.

++F̀r̸om̧ ͡e͞xįs͢tent͟ial c̨ŕi̴si͢s͠ ͘an͏d͝ d̶ýsmorph̨ía ͟to͏ us͝ing͟ ̢it to p͢r̵a͟nk p͏ęo̷p͢l̸e̸ in̴ ͟th҉i͢rt̸y ͡mi̷nutęs.͏ Noţ bad̡,̢++ I muse. ++But҉ ҉y͡ea̸h̷,͟ ̕th̸is̷ is͢ wha̵t̴ I͡ l͞o͏o̡ķ like ̕no͟w.++

The Sphere nudges me, warbling softly. "Heurrk," I manage to growl back, patting it on the...top part? ++I ̧l͢i͏k̕e̛ ͟yo̴u̶,++ I say. Think? Dunno. More questions, more things to worry about when we're back in the Mountain.

"Legion…" There's Aqualad. He stares up at me, meeting my eyes, before composing himself. "We will discuss this _later_ ," he says, to the rest of the Team. "Currently, we should be returning to the Mountain."

I nod, walking carefully up the ramp of the ship, having to duck slightly with my new height.

Calm. Calm. Don't think about it.

The seat shifts to accommodate my wings, hidden behind thick shell like those of a beetle. I lean back and close my eyes as the others board, trying to ignore the looks I _know_ they're giving me. Calm. Calm.

++So we're not going to talk about how our teammate got turned into a bug monster with telepathic powers? What'd he do, eat a telepath?++ Wally.

++Y̸eś.̛++

There's a moment of silence on board the ship before a confusion of thoughts fills the mental link.

++The _hell_ -++

++What did you just-++

++- _ate_ him-++

++Why would you-++

I hunch forward in my seat as the barrage of condemnation rips into my skull.

++ _Quiet._ ++ Kaldur's mental voice cuts through the confusion. Instantly, everyone shuts up. Our leader pauses. ++Legion. Explain. _Now._ ++

I stop. Calm. Calm. ++I..̵.̧I ͝c͞ąn ̵g̀ue͢s̴s ͝wh̛a͜t ha҉p͞p҉en̢e͢d̵, w͞h̴en ͘the͢ tele̕pa͏t҉h ̀tri̷e̶d̵ ̷to͢ ̶w̵i̡pe̢ ͠m͜y͞ ͜m̶i͘ņd.͘ ̨T̸h͜e͘ ͟s͢wa͡r̵m̷.̕.͢.̶m̛e̶.͡..͝t̛h̴e̷ di̛f͝f͞ère͢nc͏ȩ ͘does͞n't ̛m̸a͘ttȩr, ̨it w͏en͜t ͠ma͟d̢,̴ ̷ąn̴d͠.̡..it͡ atta̸c͠k͝e҉d ̵e͘veryón͞e ̀i͞n̢ t͘h̨e ҉camp.̛ ͝Tore ҉t̶h͜e̵m ̴a͢p͡aŗt͟. ̡A͡tȩ them,͜ m͟ost͡ of̧ ̡t͠he҉ ͠b́u҉gs. T̡here'̵s̕ n͝oth̸in̢g͠ lef̡t͏ but b̧oǹes an͝d ̛g͘ri̕s͡t͏l͘e.++ I feel the stubby antennae at the top of my head hang low, intruding on my field of vision. ++Fo҉rty̡ p̶e̶op͟l͜e͜, fort́y l̴iv̴es,͏ j҉us̷t͝.̧.̷.g͢one͟, t̷han͡k͜s͝ ̧t̵o͡ ͠that _ba̸s͜tar͜d_.++

A hand on my shoulder. I turn my head, to see Red Arrow- Roy- looking more serious than usual. "You can't fix it," he says quietly. "But you can make sure it doesn't happen again."

I nod quietly, not trusting my brain to relay my voice properly.

"It'd make a lot of sense...if that's why your 'voice' is the way it is."

++W̵ha̶t's wr̨ǫn̶g͞ ͟w̕i̢t̀h͟ ̵my̕ voi̛ce?++

"It sounds... like a couple of people are saying the same thing at once, sometimes a little bit late or early... really weird."

"Hurissssk." ++Huh͠. Įn͏te͝r̀ęst̶i̴n̴g̢++

 **10:34 PM EDT, Friday, September 3rd, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"He's still down there?"

"Yeah."

"Are you _sure_ he's not drowned?"

"Pretty sure. Hey, Grant! Show us you're not dead!"

Sitting at the bottom of the Cave's giant natural pool, I shrug. ++S͡ti̸l̷l͞ not ͠d̸ea͞d́, ͘and I can _̡st̸i̵l̶l̢_ ̛h̴ear͢ y̕ou̷ ͟lot͜ şhou̢tin͠g,++ I broadcast to El. ++A̴ny͢ l̨uck̨ ̴with͏ ͢th͜e̴ Leag͞ue?̡++

I get the impression of a shrug from Wally. "No word on what they're thinking. Probably freaking out."

++And́ ͘yo͝u g͝u͠y̵s̢ a҉re̴n̕'t?͏++

Another mental shrug, this time from El. "A lot of the...implanted stuff, from Cadmus? Had me fighting alongside Genomorphs. You're not that scary in comparison to a bunch of G-Trolls."

++Į'́m͞ vag͝úely cert͢ai̕ń Ì ̴s͝h̨oul͘d ̨be ̡offe͠nd͜e̷d ̀by ̸t͞h̡at҉++ I get to my feet, squat down slightly, and then _leap_ , bursting out of the shallow water and landing just shy of the others. El checks the watch in his hand. "Twenty minutes," he says. "How are you even breathing?"

It's my turn to shrug, this time. "Skrera." ++Pr̨et̕tỳ ͠su̷r͡e ̀I҉ _̶don't̕_. ͘A̛l̀s̨o͝,̕ work̨ed́ s҉om͝e̢t͘h͘in̕g ou͡t͝.͡++ I hold up one of my claw-tipped fingers, and focus. The claw wavers, then pulls itself back into my finger. ++C͢ļaws̶ ̢g̛o͏ ͞ìn, cl͘aws͘ ̀go o҉ut̢,̸ ͟and͘ ̷no͠w ͝I w̸o͘n̛'̴t̀ ͞d̸es͜tr͝óy thi̶ńg̷s͜ ̶by tou̷c̢h͟in̷g t͝h̸e̕m,++ I say. I'd apparently ripped a tank apart with the little half-inch blades. Finding out they were _retractable_ made things slightly more tolerable.

Slightly.

Calm. Calm.

El nods. "That's...good news," he finally says. "The claws, I mean. Not the not-breathing...thing."

I don't smile. Apparently the urge gets mistranslated somewhere along the nerve lines and results in my mandibles and jaw opening and displaying _all of the teeth._ It even made _Richard_ take a step back.

 _Warble-beep-chirp._

I pat the Sphere as she rolls over. Damn thing won't leave me be. El, M'gann, and I can understand it best...probably a telepathy thing.

++I҉'́m̧ ͞g͢oin̴g̨ ́to͜ go ch́e҉ck̸ on ̷m̀y circl͡e, the͟n͘ s͢l̢eep̸,̶++ I broadcast. ++Yo̕u guy̕ś şh͜o҉u͞l҉ḑ ̴p͡rob͢ably ̕d̸o̷ ̢t̕he͢ ̸s͢a͢m̷e.++

 **9:32 AM EDT, Saturday, September 4th, 2010**

"How are you coping?" Kaldur asks me bluntly as I stare at my mug of coffee.

I shrug. ++I͜'m f͝in̕e.++ I take a sip of the coffee- eating is awkward, between the decrease in the flexibility of my fingers and the strangeness of my jaw structure. It... doesn't taste quite right. Nothing does, anymore. Familiar, and close enough I can recognize it...but always a little bit _wrong._

Aaaand Kaldur is giving me a Look. I know that one. It's his 'Legion, I know you're full of shit' Look. I make a soft, flutelike noise. ++I̸ _am̸_ f̡i̸ņe.̢ I͘ _hav̵e_ ̴t̨o͜ be ̴f̴i̸ne͏. ̵O̵th̕erwise. ̷.͟ ̧ęve̸ryth͡ing͏ ͏i̵s _͏w̸r̛ong_ , I'm s̸o̴m̨e͏ǫne̵ w̡ho̶ _҉a̛t͏e̡_ ̡fo̡rty pe̷op͘ĺe ͝i̛n̨ ͢a̷ ̧ber͞śerk̷er̕ rag̛e,̶ ąn͜d̀ my ́bod͘y ís ̵a ͢t͟hr͟íce-͟da͢mn͏ed ͟ìn͟se͟ctil̢e ͘pr͏įso̕n ̡th͘at me̴ans ̛I'̢ll ne҉ver ̧se̶e ̡a͠no̷t͟h͠er̶ ͏ḩu̶m̕an̶ wi̕th҉ou͘t ͟s̷e̛ei̡n̡g fear ͏o͢r _̨p͠i͡ty͏_ ́i̛n ͝t̶hei̵ŕ eye̸ş.++ I stop, breathing hard, and slowly release the shattered pieces of the mug. ++I'l͠l çlea͟n ̵tha͘t ́up̷,++ I say tonelessly.

Kaldur takes a seat on the couch next to me. "I was considering inviting El, M'gann, and yourself, to accompany me to Atlantis in a few days. Given your...condition, it has become rather more pressing. Atlantis has an advanced understanding of biomancy- perhaps they can help." He puts a hand on my shoulder, and it takes all my control not to flinch away.

I make another flute sound, the closest I can make to a sigh. ++A̛lrigh̛t͘. I'̷l͏l ́co̢me. ̕When?́++

"The sixth."

I shrug. ++I̴t͜ i̴s̛n't ̕l̵i͞ke I͡ ha͜ve an̶y͞ţh͟ìng e͝l͢se̸ ̀to͟ ̢do.++

###

 **12:14 PM UTC, Sunday, September 5th, 2010**

 **The Watchtower**

Bruce hadn't called the full League together for this. Wasn't needed, and it would have been...detrimental, to say the least. Instead, he'd only brought together three others- Manhunter, Zatara, and Lantern Stewart.

"You've all read the same reports I have," he said calmly. He tapped his terminal, and images of Legion's current form appeared. Manhunter and Zatara did not react, but Stewart did, eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the young man's changes.

"The question is, how did this happen?" He looked around the room. "Manhunter."

The Martian frowned. "Legion's mind is an... unusual case. It emulates humanity, but at it's core...it is akin to a swarm of Earth locusts. The telepath attacked it, harmed it, and without Legion's conscious mind directing it...it responded with lethal force."

"And the changes?"

"I believe I can answer that," Zatara stated. "Legion's soul is connected to the Red- the force that binds all living land-dwelling creatures. I know... relatively little of it. Invocation and ritual magic is my specialty, not elemental workings. However, it seems likely that Legion, consciously or not...expanded that connection, somehow. Given his affinity for insects, it had obvious consequences." He motioned to the hologram of Legion.

"I am... concerned as to the effects of this transformation on his mind. For one, I do not believe Legion's mental stability will benefit in the slightest from an increased connection to a primeval force, or the vast changes to his body."

Once again, the Manhunter proved himself a master of understatement.

"I'm not exactly an expert," Stewart says carefully, "but that, plus what his swarm did...he needs someone to help keep him together."

"Agreed," Bruce said. He looked at Zatara. "Any ideas on reversing the changes?"

"Permanently? Likely impossible. With some assistance from my London colleagues, I _may_ be able to devise a solution to limit the connection to what it was previously... but it would be a binding on his powers. I will need to speak with him in person, and consult specialists. Possibly travel to Louisiana."

"His mind cannot be altered easily, nor should it be," J'onn added. "However-"

"One thing, first," Stewart interrupted. "This hive mind business. Why haven't you told him?"

The Manhunter gazed at the Lantern levelly.

"Tell me, Lantern Stewart. When, precisely, would be a good time to inform someone they're a dead man?"

 **11:43 PM UTC-2, Monday, September 6th, 2010**

 **Poseidonis**

Queen Mera was not accustomed to being surprised. This was largely because a surprise typically took the form of some form of enemy ravaging Poseidonis, or attempting to kidnap her, or both at once. Honestly, why people such as Black Manta continued to think her an easy target was beyond her. She _ran_ the Conservatory of Sorcery, for neptune's sake! That wasn't exactly a ceremonial position.

And now, two surprises at once. The first was of the more typical, worrisome, trying-to-kill her variety: Ocean-Master waking her with his utterly ridiculous trident pointed at her. The deluded fool had even used a one-liner.

The second, and decidedly more pleasant of the two, was when the stone crab statue Kaldur'ahm's young companion had gifted her had vanished, replaced in an instant by said companion.

The lanky insectile boy had stared blankly at the psychopath before screaming something about 'Fish Hitler' and _backhanding_ Ocean-Master _through_ the walls of her bedchamber. The boy had only bowed perfunctorily before running off in pursuit.

"It will protect you from ill fortune, indeed," she muttered with a smile.

Now how had that boy bypassed the palace's defensive spells? They should have rendered most forms of magic inert and incapable of functioning...not that she was _complaining_.

++Ever͞yo͢n̸e̕ ̡linke͝d up̵?++

++I thought that was my line.++ The M'orzz girl joining in. Gods, this was strange.

++A͞pol͜o̕g͏i̴es ͞f̡o͝r invading y҉ǫu͜r͘ pr̶i̛v҉a͜çy̶, y͢o̕u̧r̀ m̸aje͘s͢t̛y͘,̷ ̧but̀ ỳo̢u͜ prob̀ably ͜wa̷nt t͢o duc҉ķ. ̛Now.++

She was no fool. The moment she did so, Ocean-Master practically _flew_ through the water to slam into the opposite wall, cratering it. The Purist leader slumped, floating limply.

++Legion, keep the Queen safe. We will handle the remaining purists,++ Kaldur'ahm instructed. The insectile warrior popped up in front of the hole in her wall, trailing a growing swarm of crabs, shrimp, and isopods as he walked back in. Apparently he was dense enough to sink in water, even this deep.

The young man nodded to her, before striding over to where Ocean-Master was floating. Claw marks marred the villain's armor, which looked crumpled. Had he…

Legion placed a clawed hand on Ocean-Master's helm. With no warning, bolts of electricity leapt from the man's armor, sinking into the boy's body, but Legion ignored it, ripping the helm free.

The glow of electricity vanished.

As Queen Mera stared at Orm's unconscious features, every conscious thought in her mind vanished in a storm of shrieking, white-hot _rage._

 **6:43 AM EDT, Tuesday, September 7th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"And then what happened?" they asked Legion.

The bug-man shrugged, a normal motion made unusual by his changed skeletal structure. "Skruh." ++The̡ ot̢her҉s and ͠th̴e ͠pa̛lace͞ ̢gua̛r҉d ̢beat͢ t͢hȩ ҉stúff͠i̡ng ͝out̀ ̡o͢f̧ t̨he remai̸ņi͏ng͠ ͢F͡ish N̵az̀is͟, an͠d̕ Or̨m͘ gót̡ ̵l̴o̴c͏k͞ed up ͠t҉ig̨h̨t̕, h͝is a̷r̷ḿo͞r͢ ͟sh҉red̴d͘e̴d.̡ ̀T͟h̶in͢k͏ K̶aldur's̴ in͏h͝er͡ited́ W͜all̨y͢'̸s ̀h̕ab͘i̶t ͞of ̴s͞teaĺi̸n͠g ̡souv͠eni͢rs͜,͢ s͡ince͘ ̀he͘ ͘to͝ok ͞the ̶tr̨ide̴nt ͏ba̡c̢k ͟wi̡th ͞h́im͢. N͜o ĺuck ̧o҉n͏ th͞e̵ bio҉man̶c͡y ̸r̡o̵ute f̡o̕r ̴m̀e,̢ tho̧ugh́. ̸So͟meth͢i̢ng͜ a͜bo̸u̕t ̴i͠nņa̧te҉ m̕ag̵i͏c͡s̵.++ He waved his hands. ++S̴o I'm s̷tu͘ck͠ ̴wa͜it̨ing ̴fo͢r Z͏atara ̕a̷nd͞ thè ͢T̢ąte͡ ͝Ćl̶úb to̵ co͘m̸e̴ up̢ with ̸some͟thing͠ ̴çl̴ev̸er.̸ I̛t͏'s..̷.̧not as bi͢g̢ ̨a d͟e͢a̵l͠ ̀a̴s͟ I ͠th̸o͘u̕g̴ht͟ ͢it w͟o̕u͠ld ́be̵, ̨I g͞uess?++

"What do you mean by that?"

Legion huffed. ++I̶t's n̴o̕t͠ ̢li͜k͢e I͏'͜m e͝xpe̷c͝t͞i̛ng̷ to͟ _keeṕ_ a se͠cr͡et ̸id͘ęnti͏ţy͢.̀ I kno͢w̢ ͝Ba͏ţm̨an̡'s͡ şet s̴om̢ethin͜g̷ up ͘fo̵r͟ ̕'G̛ra͞nt A͢lvea͢r̷',͘ ̧m͏os̡tl̨ỳ ̸b̀asic t̡hi̡n͝g̛s͢, en͡o͜ugh ͝to p̨as͠s ̶b҉a͝c̴kgro҉u͢n̨d c҉h͡e͞ck̵ś.̷.͏.͏bu̢t̨ w͢hy ͘bo͢thér h́idi̢ng?̧ I͟ ̨d̡on't͜ hav͝e a҉ny̵o̕n͞e wh̷o'͘s͟ v͠u̷ln̕erab́lé ̛t͢o͞ an at̶t҉ack̵,̵ ͘o̸r a ͏l̛i̶fe̴ ͘b͠ęyo͜ǹd all̀ ́thįs͘...҉s̵o ̧n̷o͝ real re͡a͜sơn͏ ̨t͟o w͏orr҉y̶ ͞a̷bo̢u̡t ͝tha̵t. ́A̶s̀ f͠or̕ e͠v͜e̛r̢y͢o͘n͜e ̴w̧h͢o͜ ̧m̵ig҉ht b͞e ͘f͞rea͢k̡ìn̸g ou͘t.̀..I̸'l҉l ̧manàge.̵ ̵Ex͜p͝osur͡e ̷t̡h̸erap͡y ͘i͝s a̶ ͢t̛h̴ing,̸ ̧r͟ig̸ht̶?̛++ His antennae twitched. ++W҉ơr͏s͡t ̴c͜as͜e͞ s̢c͡ena͠ri̸o̴,͞ Ha҉ppy Hąrb̕or͜ ḩa͝s ̀a̡ ̧new͞ ͜f͘ri̢en̕d̸ly ̴n̶eighbórh̴o͠o͘d̛ ̨b̛u͏g-҉m̴aǹ.̀ B̕e̴s͟t̵ ͡c̛a͡se̢,̨ I'm͢ stuc͞ḱ ͘l͘i͘k͞é th̢i̸s͝ u̸nt͞i̡l̕ ͏som̵eo̵ne ҉do͢es̛ s͘òmething to͠ f̸ix̡ i͜t. Eit̛he͠r way̛.́.́.̛I'̧m ̷c͞opi̴ng.͘.++

" _Really._ "

"Hrrassssk." ++A ̸lot o͞f ̷wha͢t's h̸a͢pp̡e̕n̡e͢d̷ to me.́.͠.I͡ ͡r̢e͢all͏y ̡don'̀t͟ think̵ n҉òr̸mal ̸h̨u͝m̕a҉n͠ psychólog̴y̶ know̛s̸ how ̸to҉ han̸d͢le̛ i͘t̸.̛ ̵Bu͜t҉ I'm not le͝t̕tin̷g ̵this b̛r̨ea͝k ͏m̵e, and̵ ̴I'm ̶no̷t ͝goin͘g t́o h͟erm͢i҉t myse̡lf ͠a̸way͡ b̸ęca͜us̀e͏ Į l͜o̢ok̡ l͠i͝ke͠ t̶h͞i̢s̛.̡++

"Good." They paused for a moment. "How's the team handling it?"

++Y̧ǫu ́h͟a̢v̶en'̵t͝ ͏a͞ske͏d?͘++

"Oh, I did. But I'd like to hear what you're thinking."

"Hrk." ++Kal͢du̴ŗ'̨s copi̡ng͜,͢ I͞ t̨hink̕.̵ Hard to ̀t͢éll͢ wi͘th ͡h͘im̵. El- ̡E̴li҉as͞, ͞I͜ g̶u͢e̕s͝s,͞ ͢nǫẃ, ͜just͢ ́fl̨at-͟o͢ut ͜doesn'̢t ca͟r̶e҉, ͘a҉nḑ I t̕hi͢ǹk ͞h̕e's ha̛pp̢y to͜ find ̧s͞o҉m͏e҉o̶ne in̕ h͠is͜ wei̸ght class. M'ga̢nn̵...he̵r͘ ͞mi͢nd'̸s̡ o̡pe͏ń,͢ a̷nd I g̶et͝ li̴t͢tl͟é f͝l͞ash͘e͝s of.̧..rea͟ssur͠ance, ͡I̡ g̀uęs̕s͡?̷ W͏hen s̡h͝e ͢lookş ̨at̨ ͏ḿe. Pro͘b̀a̢bly͡ a ́Martian th̢in͘g͟. Ar͜temis ͝is ̢a ĺi̶t͢t̨l͜e͞ ͝fre̴ak͢ed o͏uţ ̴bu̧t ͢she͢ ͘wa͜s͜ p̧r͟e̡tt͜y ̸muçh̕ ͟li͘ke ͘t͡hat͟ ̡a̧ny͘w̷a̸y͘, dìţt͡o͏ ͡Ẁallac͝e.͢ A͏ņd̸ ̧R҉oy..̷.̸I͡ do̸n'͢t ̢k͢no̸w.͜ H͠é ͢hasņ't ͞beęn҉ to̢ ͡th̢e͢ Cav͟e m̢u҉ch th̀e pa͠s̛t f̢ew ͢da͜ys,̡ ̧say҉s h͞e's wór̢ki̛n̢g o҉n şo̢m҉e̡t͏hing҉ ͞impo͠r͘t҉a̧n͡t̡ ̴an͏d ̷ẃa̷nts̡ to͢ ̛han̢d̨le i̢t ̀s̡ol̨o.++

 **12:24 PM UTC, Sunday, September 5th, 2010**

 **The Watchtower**

"Dead?" Lantern Stewart asked flatly.

Bruce and the Manhunter exchanged looks, and he nodded.

"Legion's mind is, as best as I can determine, functioning from the 'shard' he mentioned. I felt the man who was crushed under the rubble _die_ , while we could do nothing. What we are dealing with is a collection of insects fueled by the Red and commanded by the shard to emulate the personality and mind of a dead man."

"That only makes it more important for you to have _told him_ this!" Stewart shouted. "I don't know about you, but I think he'll find out sooner rather than later...and if he finds out you _knew_ this whole time and hid it from him...do you _want_ to make the man who when mentally attacked butchered a tank platoon angry at you?"

"I called this meeting precisely to _prevent_ that," Bruce said levelly. Stewart's mouth shut.

"Legion requires professional help, to deal with this. Normal therapy would...clearly not be effective. His situation is unique, and I doubt most practitioners would be equipped to deal with the situation effectively. Which is why I called you in."

"I'm not a therapist, Batman."

"No, but you know someone who is. Tell me, what do you think of Lantern Gardner?"

 **6:58 AM EDT, Tuesday, September 7th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

Legion sat back in his chair, strange legs crossed, and made a flutelike noise. ++Way I see it, I'm not human anymore. I mean, I could turn into a swarm of bugs, so _clearly_ something else was making sure my brain kept running even when it failed to physically exist. Was obvious...but I didn't want to think about it.++ He paused. ++Then, during the fight with Orm...it was strange. Kept getting ideas, ways to mess with his mind. It would've been...so easy.++ He sighed. ++I think that the people my swarm...consumed...they're sticking around. And if their memories and skills are leaking through to my brain...where does that leave me?++ Another flutelike sound. ++I've been trying to center myself. Meditate. I won't let myself be controlled, even by my own nature. If that nature is something of the Red, or something that is a...gestalt of trapped minds...fuck it, I'll still be _me._ I can't allow anything else to happen.++

Legion stood. ++Thank you for your time, Lantern Gardner.++

###

 **12:23 AM NST, Wednesday, September 8th, 2010**

 **Taipei**

++Didn't we already capture her?++ I ask, directing my speech only to Red. Unseen by anyone except my bugs, the archer nods minutely.

++Her transport to Belle Reve was hit en route. She, Hook, and Black Spider escaped.++ Aqualad relays calmly.

++The other inmates?++

++Killed. Did you...not read the report?++

I shrug, secure in my rooftop position. My costume, naturally, no longer fits me. And there's no real point separating my identities at the moment. So, the only real division is that when I'm working I actually wear clothes. It's not like there's anything to cover up, but it sets things apart, makes boundaries. Currently, I've managed to get a set of grey cargo shorts up past my leg joints, and I'm wearing a t-shirt, a lighter grey, with a black symbol on it. That itfeatures the Zerg is most definitely a coincidence. Yes.

Then I realize that no, Aqualad can't see me.

++Must have missed it,++ I say.

I get a flash of amusement from my leader before Cheshire starts talking. I can see her movements easily. She's going full femme fatale. Heh.

"And where are your little sidekick friends? They're just buckets of fun. Especially Ar-chery Girl."

I can practically _see_ that little hard edge of anger in Red's thoughts. But he smiles. "Oh, they're around. She's off with Green Arrow."

"Remedial training? Hmm. Wouldn't have pegged her for that."

"You can be wrong about a lot of things."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes."

There's something entering my range, boots crunching on roof tarmac, and _ohshit._

++Red! Cover! Now̷!++

Red ducks as the asshole with the rocket launcher opens fire. It slams into the side of the building, and my bugs inside die as fire and shrapnel carves through them. I'm blind.

++Red? You alive?++

++I'm fine.++

Cheshire and the Casey-Jones-looking asshat with the rocket are booking it via zipline. Red's going after them with one of his own.

++Aqualad, should I pursue?++

++Legion. Go.++

I _grin_ , then run to the edge of the roof and hurl myself off, spreading my wings and letting them buzz freely. The air catches, and I _soar._

My top speed isn't particularly fast, barely better than someone sprinting, but I'm agile in the air for someone who has to at least partially listen to physics, and I can stop on a dime and hover. _None_ of which helps in the sprinting contest going on over half of Taipei's rooftops.

I dodge a hurled javelin, which explodes behind me.

Okay, maybe the agility _is_ helping.

"SKRAAA!"

++Javelins? Seriously? You're going to hurt someone at this rate.++

Casey Jones Lite doesn't respond to my barb, running flat out to a waiting helicopter. The few bugs I scrounge up reveal people inside, so I'm guessing backup.

Ha ha, no.

Cockroaches, flies, and beetles crawl and fly up from the building they're parked on, hurling themselves at the copter- dammit, they've started up already. The winds from the blades are keeping my bugs from getting into the machinery, and crashing it while it's flying would be far too much collateral damage.

Red's still a block away. Within arrow range.

++Red! Foam, aircraft interior!++

The arrow flies, only to detonate early as Cheshire hurls a shuriken right into the warhead. Foam sprays onto the rooftop, and the helicopter begins to lift off.

++Oh no you don't,++ I hear Red vocalize, drawing a rope arrow. I dart overhead, aiming for the copter, knowing I won't reach it quickly enough. Have to try anyway.

The helicopter jerks slightly as the rope goes taut and Red is pulled into the sky. Does he honestly think they-

 _Ohshittheyjustcutthe rope._

Dive-dive-dive!

I drop straight down, shedding altitude for speed as I focus on Red's falling form. He doesn't have foam. Nothing to cushion his fall. I _have_ to catch him.

I drop just below him as we match velocities. Have to get this just right. He sees me, angles himself, spreads his arms-

And then impact, my arms closing under his, breath being knocked out of him as I have to slow or end up splattering us both across the sidewalk.

"Skreuh?" ++You okay?++

"Some...bruised ribs I think. I'll be fine," he mutters.

++Think we can catch up?++

"No, I-" he winces slightly as I drop him off on the roof, then continues. "Arrowhead has a tracer in it. We can catch them where they land."

I nod. ++Good plan.++

 **11:48 AM EDT, Wednesday, September 8th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

Batman's eyes narrow as he takes in the scene in front of him. "Legion. Explain. _Now._ "

The nine-year-old girl attempts to conceal herself behind my legs as I hand off Red Arrow's unconscious form to Elias. I make a flutey sound. ++Yessir. It's kinda a long story.++

"Then _tell it._ "

 **3:04 AM NST, Wednesday, September 8th, 2010**

 **Taipei**

I should probably be slightly more surprised that the Shadows own this quaint-looking property in the middle of urban Taipei. Eh. Supervillains.

Red's on overwatch for this, securing a spot in the shadows on the rooftops and sitting tight, not making a sound.

I am simply part of the swarm. Even a Shadows building isn't free of insect life, and within minutes I have eyes and ears on Sportsmaster and Cheshire, talking with a grey-haired man and Ra's.

"You're serious? _Abbot_ I understand," Sportsmaster says. "We need something to keep that _thing_ off our backs. But _her?_ "

"Huh. Wondering where those standards were before?" Cheshire says.

"That's different, and you're well aware of it. Never started so early," Sportsmaster says. He points a finger at the grey-haired dude. "Why here, Cain? Why now?"

Cain exhales. "So she can't get second thoughts." He smiles coldly. "Oh, I could find anyone, have her blood herself...but here, if she finds something she doesn't like...well, there are cameras everywhere. She won't have a choice but to temper herself again and again, until any flaw is corrected."

"That's-"

"Enough," Ra's says. "We do not have time for these petty squabbles." He glares at Cheshire. "You failed in your first attempt because you were _obvious._ I thought the Huntress would have trained her kitten more thoroughly. The five of you _will_ work together, and you _will_ destabilize the summit. Heroes or not." He looks up, and-

Ah. He noticed Red.

"It appears we have uninvited guests," the man says calmly. "Deal with him."

Uh huh. Nope.

I pull together the insects, but as Ra's fades back into the shadows Cain tosses a grenade into the cluster, tearing it apart. With a mental snarl I try to use one of the side rooms, out of sight, but it's slow going as Cain's grenades are ripping into those bits of my swarm that are visible in the courtyard, costing me time and insects.

And Red...Red is fighting Sportsmaster and Cheshire. And losing. Badly. I send a flight of bees and wasps to slow them down, but the Casey Jones wannabe tosses a grenade into the midst of the swarm that starts spraying a cloud, and the bugs caught in it start dying. At the same time, Cain pulls a grenade launcher from _somewhere_ and puts a round into my swarm, destroying it.

Dammit! Where can I…

Bugs in the high-rises near the building abruptly find themselves de-roached as I pull them to the edge of a rooftop while Cain incinerates the last large swarm I had building. Fucking _fire._ Not enough in the building to form a body. Fuck.

++Red! Pull back!++

I feel him nod mentally, barely dodging Cheshire's blades, as I pull myself out of the _useless_ remnants of my swarm inside the building.

Still not enough insects to form a proper body. Getting there.

I have enough bugs left to catch the edge of Sporty's words.

"Heh. Here you're calling yourself Red Arrow. Condition you're in, should be _broken arrow._ "

I don't see Red go still. But I feel his mind _shift._

"Easy as candy from a baby," Sportsmaster muses. "Right then-"

 _Mindfray._

It's one of the least horrifying and invasive technique that I could think of using without training, equivalent to an instant migraine. All three of the assassins drop as my _finally_ constructed body hurls itself from the roof of the adjacent building. I slam into the stone of the courtyard, and fractured flagstones turn to shrapnel, pounded into dust as I jump onto the rooftop. Red just looks...blank.

 _Slumber._

He collapses, and I grab him before jumping clear. No telling _what_ they did to him, and I'm not taking any chances.

And when this is fixed? I'm going to find who's responsible.

 **10:03 PM NST, Tuesday, September 7th, 2010**

"So, I presume Mr. Arrow will not be joining us?" Luthor asks, an eyebrow raised. "Are the two of you...sufficient?"

"Red Arrow is currently in a telepathically induced coma until such time as we can have his mind examined," Aqualad says calmly. "As far as backup goes... most of those we could contact are deployed elsewhere. We have Superboy."

I was as surprised as Aqualad when Elias burned through the entirety of his homework in fifteen minutes. He's smarter than you'd think. M'gann's still trying at it. Robin, Kid, and Artemis are all off with their respective mentors. And pretty much the entirety of the League is dealing with one thing or another. Annoying.

Luthor makes an odd expression. "I see. You haven't called for the summit to be cancelled, so clearly you think the three of you sufficient deterrent. What exactly are we dealing with?"

"Legion?"

Right. I step forward. ++Based off what we heard... we're looking at five assassins plus an unknown number of agents and mooks.++

"Mooks?"

"Skreh." ++Minions, cannon fodder, et cetera. Soldiers, yes, but against the security forces and, well, us...++

"Ah."

++Cheshire and Sportsmaster are known quantities. We can expect poisons and explosives, respectively. Sportsmaster may also have some form of schizotech on his person, probably to counter my bugs. David Cain is the third. Like the other two, he's highly skilled, but still a mark one human. He'll tear your guards apart but against a Kryptonian hybrid, and Atlantean, and _me_ he can't do much. Fourth...Kyle Abbot. Immortal werewolf. Nearly impossible to put down permanently and big, strong, and fast in his wolf form. He's probably the bigger threat. Lastly is the girl Cain mentioned. Probably an apprentice of some kind, likely young. Not sure _how_ young, but enough that Sportsmaster objected to her presence and her being used to kill.++

He frowns. "And your precautions?"

++Warding sigils on the building itself. Temporary, so we don't have to leave them lying about after all this is over. A few...other measures. Need-to-know, and they won't meaningfully affect security duty unless we're attacked.++ I shrug. ++The best plans are those nobody knows about, and I don't trust anyone enough to think the Shadows haven't infiltrated one or both of the Rhelasian delegations.++

"I...see. Very well. I trust you have it well in hand."

I _hope_ we have it in hand. If it goes wrong…

I step back, allowing Aqualad to take the fore.

"Superboy and I will disguise ourselves as mundane security, while Legion observes from a concealed position. When the Shadows attack, we will be ready."

 **10:42 PM NST, Tuesday, September 7th, 2010**

A tea ceremony? Hm. Didn't know that was a thing for the local Korea expy. Or regular Korea, for that matter.

I watch carefully from behind the curtains as the woman pushes the trolley closer. Like I've done with the members of the delegation, I reach out- _carefully_ \- to see her surface thoughts.

And find nothing. Telepathic shielding.

++Stop her. Now.++

Aqualad steps up, halting her, and the delegation begins to murmur at the interruption. Luthor glances at her, then at my position. Don't think he can actually see me…

"That's far enough, Cheshire."

She grins, before kicking the trolley forward and hurling herself back!

I burst through the curtain, and shove my hands forward. Shell of the Ironclad.

Red light blazes from the half-dozen sigils that are hidden behind the curtains, and coalesces, shielding the delegation and the audience as it blocks off our half of the room.

Then the trolley explodes, and- "Skre _uh._ " -the shield _strains,_ while I feel countless insects burn to keep it functioning. Flames roil against it, obscuring any view.

++Aqualad!++

++I am unharmed,++ he reports. ++Superboy?++

++Shame. I liked this suit.++

Safe. They're safe.

The smoke and fire is starting to clear, and slowly, I let the shield go. The room's wrecked, but a dome of shimmering water returns to liquid, dropping to the floor and revealing Aqualad and several security personnel. Closer to the shattered windows, I see Cheshire getting up off the ground, slowly and painfully. Was she...expecting to survive the very large bomb? Hrrn. Superboy, his borrowed suit heavily scorched and one sleeve missing entirely, grabs her and cuffs her hands behind her back.

The sound of chopper blades fills the air, and I groan mentally. ++Here come the rest,++ I broadcast. ++Delegates, now would be a very good time to take cover,++ I add, striding forward and off the raised table, claws coming out. I _grin._ ++Right now.++

The Shadow's chopper pulls up, and almost immediately the security personnel open fire, sending bullets pinging off it. Some kind of armor?

The chopper's side door opens, and grenades trailing smoke are flung out, obscuring the view. The guards cease fire, but keep their pistols up.

That's the moment the werewolf hurls itself out of the fog, straight at me, jaws wide. I grin, and sprint forward, sidestepping Abbot's leap and lashing out with a slash of my claws that carves bloody lines along his flank, severing muscles and reaching bone. Abbot collapses to the floor, his left legs no longer supporting him. Then the bloodied tears stop bleeding, close up, and vanish, and he stands, turning to face me and growling again.

Oh, for god's sake.

I haven't been able to gather anything near the amount of insects I've wanted. Even so, a place as highly urbanized as Taipei has plenty of nooks and crannies.

Every insect I've gathered over the past half-hour begins to fall from the ceiling. Spiders, mostly huntsmen, swarm over Abbot as he tries to run, biting constantly.

See how that magic regeneration deals with a pile of venom, asshole. The arachnid-covered shape slows, then collapses.

Mercenaries are pouring out of the smoke, bullets ripping into both sides. Less armored and far more poorly armed, the security guards are going down fast, the few survivors taking what cover they can find. Superboy and Kaldur are doing to the mercs what the mercs are doing the security, just without bullet holes. I send most of my swarm to help, bugs weaving tripwires and outright attacking the mercenaries as chance presented itself, still others scuttling into the smoke to find the ones that try to hide. Still no sign of the two other normals...where-

AAAARGH! "SKRREEEEE!"

A wave of _noise_ rips through part of the insect cloud, tearing the bugs to shreds, the sound itself acting like nails on a chalkboard. Superboy staggers back, clutching his ears, and I drop to my knees as the world goes wobbly.

The _fuck?_

"See? It works," I hear someone say. Blearily, my bugs focus on the source, to reveal _fucking_ David Cain, carrying some ridiculous-looking weapon in both hands with the aid of a shoulder strap. Sportsmaster's with him.

And just like the others, I can't touch their minds.

My limbs are sluggish, but I get to my feet, trying to keep my balance as the two approach, the remaining security guards too busy to stop them. I _snarl_ , and Sportsmaster _laughs._

"You can handle the zerg, I'll finish off the Atlantean."

"Sssskkrrruuuuuuurrr." _Rebuild._

My vision and mind snap into crystal clarity again, and I _lunge_ forwards, faster than Cain can pull the trigger, pulling my bugs out of the firing arc as I pin the unwieldy gun against his chest. Sonic? Don't care. My claws tear through the outer casing, and circuitry sparks as I hurl the man back. He pulls a knife from somewhere and cuts through the strap, freeing his firing arm again before grinning at me. I find myself ignoring him.

Other bugs see for me, cold and crystal clear. Most of the mercs are down or dead, ditto security. Aqualad's fighting with Sportsmaster, water blades against a fencing saber. Superboy's staggering to his feet.

None of that matters as much as the girl just having left the helicopter, staring in horror at the dead man before her, the gun on the floor in front of her.

A girl. Young. David Cain. How had I not fucking seen that coming?

I hear a quiet _snap_ somewhere in the recesses of my brain.

David just stabbed me in the gut. Interesting blade, you abusive little _fuck_. I slam a fist into his gut and watch as ballistic plate _fractures_ and he doubles over, then drops. I kick him, and he slams into a side wall before dropping limply. Bugs swarm over the mercs in a tide of chitin, ignoring losses and simply focusing on putting them _down._ Sportsmaster doesn't even get to scream before he's dogpiled from behind by a cloud of flies and wasps, crawling under his mask. He writhes as the bees dig their stingers in deep.

I walk over to the girl. She flinches as I approach, backing away slightly before freezing as I draw closer, uncertain of what to do. I try to act non-threatening as I kneel down. There. A small pendant, fuzzy with mental static. I pick it up, pull the chain off of her, and suddenly I can _see._

She's afraid. That's strongest. Fear of what she's seen. Fear of her father. Fear of me, of the death surrounding her, of the way she saw life leave the eyes of one of the guards as he was gutshot by her at Cain's urging.. No words. Just images and concepts.

I send wordless reassurance, the gentlest touch I can manage. The impression of a soft smile and warm sunlight. Quiet acceptance, the feeling of a hug.

Fear turns to curiosity, guilt to sorrow. Crying, she runs into me, then stops as my arms close around her.

 **12:21 PM EDT, Wednesday, September 7th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

Batman gives Cassandra a level look, then turns his gaze back on me. "So you brought her here? Why?"

I shrug. "Hraah." ++Do you honestly know anyone who could _help_ her?++ Cassandra looks up at the sound, but shows no reaction to the mental voice. She appears to be attempting to crush my hand by grip strength alone. Batman motions for me to continue.

++Sir. Her speech and language centers are _gone._ Or, more accurately, they never existed. That _bastard_ raised her without ever speaking a word to her or letting one be spoken in her presence. Her social interaction is nonexistent. It's one thing to be mute. Another to be utterly without words at all. Only a telepath could help, and the only one who has the skill and isn't insane or a sociopathic Brit is the Manhunter.++ I let out a breath. ++Given the situation, I didn't want to leave her behind to the Taiwanese foster system or...whatever they'd do to her. And...I didn't know what else to do. She can't really understand specifics- she'll read body language like an open book, but she needs a telepath for a lot of basic communication. Cain trained her in some...weird sign language that isn't NATO standard, and I can't figure out what it is since he's unconscious while the Taiwanese try to put his jaw and limbs back together.++

A minute nod. Then he frowns. "Do you plan to care for her yourself?"

I shake my head quickly, backing away. ++No. Nononono _no_. I'm nineteen, and not human. Barely understand how to take care of myself, let alone Cassandra. I was _hoping_ someone on the League-++ -like Bruce Wayne, I don't say- ++-would have a better idea of what to do, who to work with. Short term, while that's figured out? Maybe, _maybe._ But I _can't_ do that sort of thing long term and it...wouldn't be a good idea for me to try.++

Another extremely tiny nod. "Very well. Keep her in the Mountain. We'll arrange something longer-term quickly. And I expect reports on your use of force on my desk by tomorrow. For now...get some rest."

I snap a salute. ++Yessir.++

 **8:02 PM EDT, Wednesday, September 7th, 2010**

"Hey, Bugman. Who's the midget?"

I flute the opening bars of Sabaton's _The Last Stand_ while I check the grilled cheeses. I'm nowhere near a good a cook as my dad was, but I manage. ++That 'midget' is Cassandra Cain, yes, that Cain, and she's going to get some help from the League. Staying here while that's sorted out.++

"Okay, um...why are you cooking?"

++When a nine-year-old wakes you up with screaming nightmares you lose most of your incentive to sleep,++ I reply. I flip the smaller sandwich onto a plate, and place it on the kitchen counter. Cassandra picks it up silently, and looks to me for approval. I point in the direction of the TV room and she trots off.

"Weird kid."

++Cain Senior raised her without language. She can kill a man with one hand but doesn't understand words. I or M'gann are basically going to be on-base translators until that's dealt with.++

Wallace stops, opens his mouth, closes it.

++What?++

"What about Red?" he finally asks. "Is he…?"

++Mr. J'onnz will be by tomorrow. We've got him in the infirmary at the moment. I just let him sleep.++ My grip on the spatula tightens slightly. ++I got a glimpse at what was going on in his head. Someone _programmed_ one of our teammates. I intend to find out who, and why, and where to find them.++

Wallace nods, face set. "Count me in," he says, unusually serious. "Rob and Kaldur, too."

++That, my friend, goes without saying.++

###

 **7:12 AM EDT, Wednesday, September 8th**

 **Mount Justice**

We've gotten the entire Team together for this. Nobody wants to miss it. Even the _Sphere_ managed to squeeze through the infirmary doors, and put itself in the corner, warbling softly. Cassandra _somehow_ climbed on top of it to get a better view, and neither one of them have moved from that spot since.

We wait as Martian Manhunter and the unconscious Roy face each other, Roy on a cot, the Manhunter standing. J'onzz's eyes are closed, and neither of them are moving, beyond Roy's steady breathing.

"This is taking a lot longer than I thought it would," Wallace observes.

"Skraah." He'd ordered me and M'gann not to use telepathy while he worked. Said it might distract him. Not being able to speak is _extremely annoying._

"It's...probably not easy," M'gann says. "I know _I_ couldn't do it."

"Yeah, I get that it's not easy, but-"

"-shouldn't we be worried? Probably," Richard finishes with a shrug. "We don't know how long his head's been messed with. If they had known Legion was able to listen in…"

"Areskh." I shrug. The Sphere warbles, and Richard nods.

"We got lucky, finding this out," he says.

Aqualad nods, then looks over us all. "When Manhunter completes his work, I want him to check each of you as well. And myself. If Red Arrow was affected...any of us could have been programmed as well."

The mood drops faster than a lead balloon. But nods flicker around the group. Even M'gann. Even me. He's right. We can't take the chance.

 _This_ is why I'm bloody well terrified of hostile telepaths. You can't tell whether or not what you know is real.

Mr. J'onnz's eyes open, and he takes a step back. "It...is done," he says finally. "I…" He stops. "He will sleep, for a while longer, but the programming is gone. But…"

"But what?" Wallace asks.

"This is not Roy Harper. His memories...are false. Implanted. He's a clone. One that, as best as I can tell, replaced the original but a few weeks after the start of his career as Speedy."

Dead silence.

"Clone with implanted memories?" Richard muses. "Sounds like-"

"- _Cadmus_ ," Elias growls. His hands curl into fists.

"I...cannot be certain," Mr. J'onnz says carefully. "But it seems likely."

"Then we'll go there, and-"

++Not yet,++ I say. Elias turns on me.

"Why?! They've been-"

++Any one of us could be programmed. False memories. All it would take is a single coded phrase, and we'd shut down. Or worse, get turned into obedient weapons. We _can't_ go after them until we're sure there's nothing in our heads.++

"Mr. J'onnz, would you be willing to examine us for similar programming?" Aqualad asks.

The Martian nods slowly. "Of course."

 **8:03 AM EDT, Wednesday, September 8th**

M'gann, Richard, Wally, and Kaldur are all clean. Nobody tried to mess with their heads. Just Elias and me left. Makes sense. Elias _was_ a Cadmus project, and me...well, I've got my own set of problems. Saving the obvious suspects for last. None of the others took more than ten minutes, but Elias has taken thirty by now.

Heh. Wonder if Manhunter's figured out what I did while I was talking to Guy. If not, might be a shock. Might make him-

I feel pressure on top of my head, and I borrow the eyes of a few lonely spiders to see.

++Why is she standing on my head?++ I ask long-sufferingly. ++ _Why._ ++

Cassandra doesn't understand the words, but I see her pick up on the tone and smile slightly as she shifts to keep her balance.

"Didn't think you were someone who could be walked all over, Bugman," Wallace says with a grin. I groan.

++I am certain that pun violates international law,++ I broadcast. Thankfully, with Mr. J'onzz working in a separate room, I don't need to hold back on the telepathy.

++[The sense of teetering on the edge of a cliff. Exhilaration.]++

I blink slowly. ++Did anyone else just get that?++

"Get what?" Richard asks. I shrug, then reach up and pluck Cassandra off of my head with ease, setting her on the couch next to me. She's smiling wider now. ++[Query: cause?]++ I ask.

She pauses, then scrunches up her eyes in concentration. ++[Affirmation]++

It's...not telepathy. Just...her thinking _really hard_ at me. Still…++[Pride]++ She beams.

"Rragh!"

The wall of the other room _shudders_. A few moments later, the door opens, and Elias walks out, breathing heavily.

"What...happened in there?" Aqualad asks cautiously. Elias flinches slightly, then takes a deep breath, centering himself.

"Cadmus had a lot of things to shut me down in my head. Nothing...nothing recent. But not fun to find." He gives me a look. "You were...kinda right," he admits.

++Aren't I always?++

"Judging from the last time you attempted to make stew, no." A small smile, but I'll take it.

++Still say it shouldn't have exploded like that,++ I mutter. I stand. ++Guess it's my turn, now.++

I walk out, and head for the waterfall-obscured area Mr. J'onzz has elected to work with us in. The Manhunter looks up at my approach, then glances at the fist-shaped crater in the wall.

++Trouble?++

"Ehr." He puts a hand to his temple. "It is...disconcerting to see telepathy put to such a use," he says. "Please, sit," he adds, motioning to the chair across from his.

I take my seat silently. ++So, how does this go down? Vision quest? The others weren't exactly open.++

"I do not believe you would be at all vulnerable to any sort of telepathy," Mr. J'onnz says. "And my...initial forays into your mind, when you joined the team...those would have uncovered any programming beforehand. My concern is about _you._ "

Huh. Guess he _had_ figured it out. "You mean you're worried that I've...taken the minds of others, when I ate that Bialyan tank platoon and the psychic."

He blinks. "You figured it out for yourself?"

I shrug. ++Lantern Gardner is excellent at talking someone through their problems. And it was fairly obvious when even thinking about using my telepathic powers for anything more than communication brings up...extremely disturbing and unnervingly _familiar_ ideas." I spread my hands. "Were you planning to tell me of this?++

"Yes...actually. You are...not concerned?"

++It's only been a few days. I'll assuredly have an existential breakdown later, but so long as I'm not hearing voices in my head urging me to wear my friend's skin as clothing or something like that...well, I wasn't exactly human in the first place, and I'm pretty sure I wasn't _sane_ either. Why waste time debating it when there's more important things to be done?++ I pause. ++I am concerned. Terrified, actually. I'm just not letting it affect me. Gardner...probably would find that unhealthy.++

"As he would be correct to. You will...discuss it with him?"

I snort. ++Not like I've got a choice. And me going nuts means bad juju for a lot of people, so I've got an incentive to do so, right?++

"I believe you do for more reasons than simply...that, but yes."

++Are we good, then?++

"I...believe so."

++Good.++ I stand, and walk back out.

 **8:27 AM EDT, Wednesday, September 8th, 2010**

 **Cadmus**

++He's somewhere down there, all right,++ I mutter, holding the compass needle bound with a lock of Clone-Roy's hair. It's not a link to the _soul_ , since Roy II has his own, but Red magic lets me forge a link between bits of DNA instead. It'd pointed to Roy II at first, but the minute we entered DC via zeta, it had led us here.

Kaldur's face is a mask. "Then we will find him." He starts walking forward, towards the low, unassuming building that marks the entrance to Cadmus, and the rest of us find ourselves following. Anger and violation crackles along the mental links M'gann and I have built, simmering beneath the surface, uniting us. The loss of an old friend. The end of a mentor. The shattering of masks. We feel each other's loss and share our own, coming to identical conclusions.

The doors swish open at our approach. The receptionist takes a single look and very pointedly ignores us. The security guard at the elevator backs away under our united gaze, smelling of sweat and fear.

The elevator drops through the shaft in total silence, sound outside dampened by advanced technology, sound inside nonexistent. The ding it emits when it reaches the proper level is almost deafening.

"Wait, what-"

There's no need for words or orders. Simply intent. M'gann reaches out, and Guardian and the security staff that had waited for us float in midair, unable to so much as twitch.

"You will tell us everything you know about Roy Harper, and you will tell it _now_ ," Kaldur says, voice calm. Quiet. Conversational.

"Whu- My nephew? What does he have to do with-?"

"Cadmus cloned him. You have him in your vaults. And you will explain _why._ "

"What- That's insane! I'd know if we had anything like that!"

We know he is telling the truth. It throws things into disarray for the slightest moment, before the fact of the spell sets things right again. Guardian and Cadmus's mundane security drop to the floor, gasping, and we continue on, into flesh-lined hallways. Familiar memories flicker and flash across the mental network, tinged with fear and anger. The door at the end yields to Kaldur and Elias's strength, screeching on uncooperative rails.

The pod is ignored. The spell points elsewhere. Why? Why a wall?

Senses are pooled and shared. The sound of heavy machinery, heard by Elias. A few quick strikes with water blades and unsheathed talons, and the carpet of flesh sloughs away to reveal another door. It, too, yields.

And as we stare at the endless rows of cryopods, our sense of purpose drains away, boundaries and borders forming again.

++What the hell are we looking at?++ I ask into the ensuing silence. ++That is _far_ too much mad science for anyone to be having.++

"I...I do not know," Kaldur says quietly. "Le- _Grant._ Does your spell still lead the way?"

++That it does.++

"Then we will find him. Artemis, Robin, Wallace: head for the surface, contact the League."

++Getting the squishy ones out of the way?++ I 'whisper' to him. He nods minutely as we follow the compass needle down through the rows.

"I do not believe in chance, but if something breaks loose and attempts to attack us…"

Suddenly I feel a pressure in the back of my mind. ++M'gann?++

"It's not me!"

++Greetings, heroes.++

"Dubbilex," Elias says flatly.

++Precisely. I apologize for not contacting you sooner. What...is this place?++

++That is what we are here to find,++ I broadcast. ++One of our friends is a clone. Programmed. _Used_ , by the enemy.++

++Legion's spell led us here. Are you going to attack us for trespassing, or allow us to bring Roy home?++ Kaldur asks.

++What do you intend to do with the clone, once you secure the original?++

++Help him. He is our friend. We never knew the real Roy.++

++Then the Genomorphs will not hinder you, and I will advise Guardian to do the same.++

The mental pressure retreats, leaving silence, broken only by the whirr of maintenance machinery and the sound of our footsteps, the spelled compass leading us onward. We come to a stop just shy of the center of the room, as the compass points directly at one of the innumerable pods. I glance to our right, at the lone pod in the center of the room, before tapping on the glass, which is made opaque by condensation. Elias steps forward and presses a button on the side of the pod, and it clears, revealing Roy's face.

++Got him. Any ideas how to bring him out?++ I ask. Kaldur shakes his head. "Not yet. We wait for the League. M'gann? Relay to the others that we've found the...original Roy." He glances at the other pod. "And...I find myself curious as to why that pod is set aside from the rest."

I nod slightly, and end the tracking spell. ++So, investigate? Computer terminal is right there.++

"Agreed. Elias?"

He steps up to the raised keyboards, and half-frozen computer systems whirr to life, bringing up a hologram. "Project...Match," he states slowly. He presses a button, and just like with Roy's the condensation obscuring the contents clears.

Holy shit, nope. _Match._ ++Elias, I know what you're thinking. _Do not_ open that pod,++ I broadcast immediately. The Boy of Steel stops staring at the identical clone in front of him and turns on me. "Why? Why should I leave him?"

++I didn't say that. But this is _long-term storage._ There _has_ to be something wrong with the clone if he's down here and not where you were found. Probably...a prototype, or something. I don't want you to open that pod and have him attack us without us being ready.++

He stops, then nods sharply. "Alright," he says curtly.

"M'gann," Kaldur says. "Be prepared to hold him in place, or make him sleep, as needed. Grant, ready a shield. Elias…" He stops, then draws his water-bearers once more, hammerheads snapping into place. "Open it."

Gases and steam hiss away as Elias pokes at the unmarked keyboard, and the front of the pod begins to lift away from the rest. The clone- Match- shifts slightly, finger joints cracking as he makes a fist. Then his eyes open, and he leaps forw-

Shell of the Ironclad.

-only to bounce off the shield spell erected between him and Elias. Hm. Eyes should not be that color.

Match snarls, and slams a fist into the barrier, howling in rage. It shudders, but I keep it steady.

++ _Sleep,_ ++ M'gann orders. The clone's black-colored eyes blink, then he drops to the floor. Elias looks shocked. "He...he just attacked. There...wasn't anything there. Just anger," he says quietly.

I pause, then dismiss the shield, walking closer. ++M'gann?++

++There...wasn't a mind in there. Just anger. Something's...wrong with his brain.++

I nod. "I think I have an idea, then."

"Well? Let's hear it!" Elias says, looking worried.

I give Kaldur a look, and he nods. ++I think I can heal him. Maybe. But it's not going to be pretty.++

"Will it...fix him?"

++Yes. He's your brother, though. Far as I can tell, he's your responsibility.++

Elias nods. "Then do it."

++Alright.++ I crouch down next to the unconscious clone.

Benediction of the Red. You are, and were, and will be.

Light blazes.

###

 **The Prototype**

You don't know where you are. There had been only the pod, the freezing cold, brief freedom to _crush_ and _bite_ and _tear_...and then darkness.

And now here.

Wherever here was.

The rage, the burning fire, is gone. You can't remember a time when that ever was, when the slightest sound brought a ringing headache and raw pain and anger, when the mere sight of the world drove you mad. You don't know what to do with it, with the emptiness in your head.

This place looks strange and red, fields of flesh and blood, but you are still calm despite the strangeness. It feels right in ways you can't describe. You've never had peace, never had quiet, always seeing molecules dance and hearing the clash of gases on gases ringing in your ears...but there's nothing to see here, no dancing chaos. Just peace in the fields of gore.

You think you like it here.

" **Huh. Did not expect that.** "

You flinch at the voice, expecting pain to rip at your ears, but despite the discordancy in it it remains at a normal volume. You turn towards it, and stop, staring.

The figure is human- you know this, even if you can't see his cells to confirm it, though you don't know _how_ you know- and wearing a heavy red longcoat, carrying a staff of bone in its right hand. Wrapped around its left are countless tiny metal chains, the ends trailing down into the blood-colored muck at its feet. It grins at you, teeth alarmingly bright in the shadows cast by its broad-brimmed red hat.

" **Well. Looks like you aren't totally homicidal,** " it says. " **Good. I can work with you. What's your name?** "

Your name. You know it, but speech is something you cannot remember trying. You know how, but...screams and roars were all you have ever made. It's difficult to make your tongue obey you, form proper words.

"C-c-c-...Call me Match," you finally stutter.

" **Match. Alright then, Match, call me Grant. I have absolutely no idea why we're here.** "

"Y-you don't?"

" **Well, I was trying to fix your brain so it processed things correctly. You would not believe the miswiring they had going on in there.** "

"You stopped the noise?" You stop as Grant nods, then hurl yourself forward. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" The words are slipping from your mouth in a torrent now, but you don't care as you hug the man for all you're worth.

The man awkwardly pats you on the back. " **Um. Okay,** " it says carefully. " **Kinda need my ribs back, big guy.** " You let go quickly.

Grant clears his throat. " **Right.** **So, healing you was...kinda the goal. Not sure why we ended up in the Red.** "

"That's because we needed to talk, young one," a new voice states.

You turn to face the voice, already worried, and-

Why is it a cat?

 **The Weapon**

 **10:14 AM EDT, Wednesday, September 8th, 2010**

The dome of insects that had covered Grant and Match was still shifting in midair, apparently content to sit there and prevent anyone from seeing what was going on inside.

The League had arrived, started looking the place over, and 'talking to' the Cadmus staff, Dubbilex included. Superman...hadn't been part of the group that came.

Elias found himself not particularly caring. He had a brother to watch over, and a team. If Superman...didn't want to be part of that, fine. He had people to look after, and he'd do a better job than the man ever tried to.

There were only five others with him in the storage room, now. M'gann, her uncle, Batman, one of the Lanterns, and Dubbilex. Mr. J'onnz seemed to be busy with the G-Goblin, the latter's horns glowing brightly as they communicated. Batman was wandering through the racks, snapping photos, the Lantern following him. M'gann...she was right next to him, a warm presence in the cold.

The others had long since left, the Team following the first Roy's pod, the rest of the League investigating up above. It didn't really matter.

The insect dome crackled and shifted, as it had near-continuously for the past...hour? Two? He wasn't sure. The quiet noise of Batman snapping photographs continued, nearly inaudible to anyone but him.

++Hey, stop worrying,++ M'gann told him quietly.

++I'm not worrying.++

++Really? Because you've been staring at that...bug-dome?...for an hour and a half now.++

++Okay. Maybe I'm worrying a little. Can you blame me?++

M'gann sighed. ++I guess not. But...trust him, alright? He knows what he's doing. I think.++

++You think?++

++With him it's difficult to tell if it's spur-of-the-moment or if he's spent weeks planning it, you know?++

He snorted. ++Yeah, I've noticed that. Does he-++ He stopped. ++Is it just me, or is that dome starting to glow?++

It was, a steady red shine that was growing in strength. Elias got to his feet, and started backing away, M'gann following him. "What the f-"

The dome imploded, insects collapsing inwards with an unearthly howl. The light grew blinding, then faded away.

Elias blinked the spots out of his retinas, and stared blankly.

"What the hell are you wearing?"

Grant looked down at himself, then shrugged. "Chrrr." ++I like it,++ he said, poking the long red coat that had replaced his normal clothing with the hand not holding the off-white staff.

Behind him, Match sat up with a groan. Elias started to move to him, only for the prototype clone to stand, shakily. "What...what the-" he muttered, stumbling and ending up leaning heavily on Grant.

++I did just have to rewire half of your grey matter so your abilities weren't constantly in overdrive and driving you batshit insane,++ Grant said acerbically. ++Some discombobulation is to be expected.++

Match shook his head, before straightening. "Okay. Okay. Whoa." He blinked rapidly, then looked directly at Elias. "I...are you my brother?" he asked softly.

Elias couldn't help himself. He chuckled. "Got it in one," he said, holding out a hand.

Slowly, carefully, Match took it.

 **The Child**

Cassie liked the Cave. Sure, there were people who were annoying, who just made noises at her and each other while _saying_ things she wasn't sure she understood...but there were nice people too! Even people who were trying to hide the fact they were nice. It was all in what they said, not in pointless noise, but in movements.

Wallace was a blur of energy, a hummingbird. Short and sharp and frantic, distractions. Kaldur was slow and deliberate, grinding ocean waves, placid exterior. Robin was cool and calm, frozen like ice, but brittle. Artemis was all sharp edges and burning, harsh barbs and aggression, like a thistle. But they were all human. She thought. She didn't think people had gills normally. But people like Mr. Abbot moved like everyone else, and she _knew_ people didn't turn into giant wolves if they were normal people.

The others were different. Elias was all flames and anger, building it up like hot coals inside and letting it out fast and hard. But there were edges to his movements that people didn't have, moments of speed and movement that didn't fit the patterns. It was...disconcerting. M'gann was even worse, what she said shifting a hundred times a minute, rapid-fire as her body moved, never enough to quite read her right.

Legion made sense sometimes, less than Elias but more than M'gann. His body was strange, but it tried to follow old patterns. Guardedness and wariness, distance, but that coldness was flickering and fading, replaced by warmer patterns, closeness, enthusiasm.

They hadn't taken her along, wherever they'd gone, but she could read in their movements, in the way they moved as one, what they were going for. They acted wounded, like a predator licking ragged clawmarks clean, waiting for the moment to lunge. She wondered why. Was it because of the red guy?

The Sphere warbled happily beside her as the big tube began to shine again. She _really_ liked the Sphere. Everyone else made noises at each other, on the TV, in front of her, over cell phones. But the Sphere's noises made _sense._ She couldn't describe it properly, how her noises worked while everyone else's didn't, even the noises that Grant and M'gann made through their minds sometimes.

The moment the light cleared away, she felt the already-familiar touch of Grant's mind, and the buzz of translation that he provided, turning meaningless noise into specific concepts for her. M'gann...tried, but she couldn't keep attention on the translation when she was part of it. Grant _could_ , and was more than happy to...well, help her. She didn't like the idea of needing that help, but if everyone decided to be stupid and talk with their noise-holes she had to deal with it.

They had a couple new people with them. One looked mostly like Elias, even though he was wearing a silly white outfit, but what he _said_...he was uncertain, afraid, looking inward. Like her. No noises, just caution. He looks to Elias, and his near-twin offers [reassurance], not just in his noise but in the hand on his shoulder and the quiet, calm expression on his face.

The other was missing an arm. Not used to it, even if the injury looked old. Disconcerting. The four human...humanish?...people clustered close around him, protecting their injured member. He looked like the red guy, but younger.

Oh, and there was the red guy now, looking...lost. Uncertain. The two redheads locked eyes for a moment, and noises that Grant translated as caution and hurt flickered between them. But then forgiveness from the maimed one- did the original red guy hurt him?- and the unharmed red- Roy II, Grant whispered in her head- looked shocked. Wallace offered words of encouragement, false certainties about acceptance. Sphere warbled happily. Apparently she liked it when people got along.

Cassie liked it too, actually. It made things easier.

Grant's new coat still looked silly, though.

++[Acknowledgement, false outrage.]++

 **The Chessmaster**

This particular room was lead-lined, buried beneath LexCorp's central headquarters. It was accessed only by a vocal password coupled with his own physical, living presence, fingerprints, and retinal scan. In addition, it was warded against most forms of magical detection, and the only method of communication that wasn't a panic button was a single piece of schizotech that was completely and utterly untraceable.

None of this was paranoid, in Lex's humble opinion. All of it was absolutely necessary.

He pressed a button, and five screens lit up. The people who owned them were all in position, as he'd requested. _Asked,_ in the case of Klarion. Lex had no desire to see his organs inverted, and he had yet to find a method for containing a being like the Lord of Chaos.

"Gentlemen, lady," he said flatly. "The past few days have been, in my humble opinion, a disaster of the highest magnitude. First, the loss of the Sphere, Psimon, and a platoon of your elites, _slaughtered,_ " he said to Queen Bee. He turned to Ra's. "Next, our attempt to stabilize Rhelasia and increase LexCorp interests, while successful, also resulted in the exposure and capture of our unwilling mole. And the loss and capture of several of your more skilled field agents." He stopped, and indicated himself. "And now, Cadmus has been broken open again, the original Roy Harper revived, and our prototype Kryptonian clone both cured of his madness and converted to the cause of the League."

He sighed deeply. "We have no inside information, no weapons, and our grand plan is useless."

Vandal Savage leaned forward. "And yet you seem calm. Why?" he asked.

Lex allowed himself the luxury of a thin smile, and told them.

"It could work," the Brain mused. "With the right pieces in place…"

"The right suppliers," Ra's said, eyebrows drawn together as he thought.

"And the right...mmm... _contacts_ ," Klarion finished, chaos dancing in his eyes. "I like it. I like it a lot."

"Then we are in agreement?"

They were.


	4. Arc Four: Fortification

Everything goes off the rails even further here. Enjoy.

 **10:03 AM EDT, Thursday, September 10th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"Ha!" Match's punch barely misses as Diana sidesteps, gets into his guard, and uses the opening to slam a knee into his diaphragm. The Super-clone wheezes and falls to his knees, and the hologram display confirms by sending up a FAIL: MATCH message for all to see. Diana offers him a hand up, and he takes it before the two start talking quietly, going over the spar together.

Beside me, Superboy makes an odd expression, and I nudge him with my elbow. "Skreh." ++You're making that face again. What is it?++

He looks mulish for a moment, then sighs. "You're going to say I'm being an idiot."

++Go on.++

He motions to Match. "Do you know why he gets...well, everything? All the things I thought I could do but found out I couldn't."

++Oh, that's easy.++ I hold up a hand, and let a cloud of insects free.

"Hey, I thought you couldn't do that without turning part of your body into bugs?" he asks

++Remember when I first walked in, and pulled all the bugs in the Mountain in?++

"Hard to forget _that._ "

++Couldn't keep them in, but lately my...capacity, for lack of a better word, has increased.++

"Your voice is less demonic, too," he points out. "But…"

++I've been working on my self-control. But, right. Match.++ The cloud twists, then turns into a cross-section of a brain, clearly visible. ++They went with a pure-Kryptonian gene mix when they tried to clone him, but there was some extremely minor genetic damage. A couple base pairs in specific spots missing. Usually that wouldn't be all that much of a problem, given how much DNA and it's interstellar equivalents have in junk sequences...but these bits corresponded to the proper formation of a few key brain structures.++ Fireflies in the swarm light up in three places, corresponding roughly to where the parietal and occipital lobes would be in a human. ++Namely, the ones that run the voluntary control of his super senses. Minute he went out of the pod he went nuts due to the uncontrollable input. Judging from Cadmus files...what they did with you was patch those missing structures with human-slash-Genomorph engineered versions. Good enough to run _some_ of your enhanced senses...not enough to keep stuff like heat vision.++

"And him being stronger? And flying?"

++Cascade effect. They also messed about with what I _think_ is the Kryptonian amygdala and most of your glands, replacing parts of it with the human-Genomorph mix.++ The fireflies already lit up stop, and others in the center of the 'brain' shine. ++Best as I can tell, that strength and flight are...technically there, your brain just can't activate them since the neurotransmitters necessary for it were in the section being produced. In Match, they were in overdrive due to the constant aggression and fear response going on, so when they made you it had to go.++

"Oh." He looks surprised for a moment. "So when you used magic…"

++Fixed him up to Kryptonian standard. Helps that the local Red has basically adopted Kal-El, so it understood what it was looking at.++

"Could you...do the same thing to me?"

Hmm. The tiny swarm collapses back into me as I tap my new staff against the ground. ++Not...sure. Maybe? Problem is your whole...soul... _thing_ is bound up in being a human-Kryptonian hybrid rather than pure Kryptonian, and I'm not sure the Red would let me change _that_...I'll do some meditation, see if I can get some answers out of the damn Parliament for once...but the only way to fix it that isn't _me_ would be hauling Kal or Match down to Atlantis and convincing a biomancer to take a look at their brain and copying the bits over to you...and I still have _no_ idea if Atlantean techniques would work for you or just make more problems. In the list of crazy ideas, I could always hope one of the non-green power rings falls from the sky, or go and steal the original Lantern's one. Or...hmm.++

"You know, even after you went all insect-y, you still make the same expression when you start thinking of a ridiculous plan," Elias says slowly. "What is it?"

++We still have the Helmet of Fate.++

"No. I'm _not_ putting that on again."

++Wasn't going to ask you to. I was thinking I would. Lord of Order, and all that...he might know how to help. And we _do_ need to figure out how to find him a useful bearer.++ And judging from Mr. Zatara's reaction making a brain-dead shell for Nabu to wear is out. Still no idea why he looked so freaked out when I asked.

Aaand El looks pissed again. "You'd let him-"

Oh. ++Nononono! Remember, omnicidal space-whale shard in my brain, plus I'm hooked up to the Red. He'd never let either near him for an extended length of time. But asking him for knowledge is probably a good idea, _and_ we can get started finding out what sort of person he wants for a bearer.++

El snorts. "You already have a list, don't you?"

++Ten steps ahead, El,++ I say, waving my mandibles. ++Ten steps ahead. So, shall we go wake up an ancient genie?++

"Pretty sure he's not a genie, Grant."

++He's magical, a powerful spirit, and lives in a shiny gold artifact that only does things when you touch it. The only way he could be more of one is if he didn't have legs and was voiced by Robin Williams.++

"Heh." He waves, getting Match's attention. "We're gonna go try something with magic!" he shouts over. Match nods, and gives a cautious thumbs-up.

As we head to our improvised secure storage room, I take the time to check up on Cassie. A dozen-odd spiders scattered around the room she and the tutor Diana had brought provide plenty of imagery. She's clearly thinking hard, examining a basic primer with stubborn concentration.

Diana had been the obvious choice, really. While many League members didn't have secret identities, she was the only one willing, and more importantly, _able_ , to take over Cassandra's care. Having that conversation with Cassie had...not been fun, but after Diana had promised that she could stay at the Mountain if she agreed to get a tutor and start being homeschooled she'd jumped at the adoption. The tutor, a young man with dark brown hair, passed Batman's background checks near-perfectly. He's figured out that Cassie isn't exactly one for speech, and is instead relying on gestures and drawings while he gets her to start learning the very basics of the written and spoken word.

The door we've welded into the Mountain's rock is so heavy, only the superhumanly strong members of our Team can open it. Even then, it takes both of us to shove the massive slab of reinforced alloy to the side relatively quickly.

We've moved most of Wally's trophies here, too. Orm's armor glowers at us from one corner, missing the trident since Aqualad appropriated it. The shelves are almost entirely empty, though Cheshire's mask and the half-destroyed remnants of Cain's sonic cannon remain on display.

STAR Labs had _not_ been happy about the state I'd left that particular bit of schizotech in. On the other hand, securing Doctor Roquette by offering her better research opportunities and gaining a few samples of Kobra Venom courtesy of looting the Shadows Taiwan safehouse had mollified them somewhat.

Elias watches carefully as I take the Helmet of Fate off its stand. ++If I don't wake up in fifteen minutes, find a ten foot pole and poke me with it.++

"And if that doesn't do anything?"

++Hit me over the head with it.++

 **In a place without time**

 **And a fucking void without reference points, how lovely**

"I find myself questioning your judgement," Fate's glowing helmet says flatly.

"How so?" I ask, pleasantly surprised to find myself looking human again. Well. Human-ish. I think my subconscious is going for an Alucard theme, what with the coat and hat.

"Take a look." An image flares into existence next to the floating helmet. My insectile body floats in midair, Helmet perched atop the flaring skull like a party hat. I chuckle.

"Fine, fine. I look ridiculous, I know. But I've got a few questions to ask."

"Have you made any progress finding a new bearer?"

"Very little. The only magic user who _might_ be willing is John Constan-"

" **No."**

I shrug. "Fair 'nuff. Magic users are a pain in the ass to find, ones that are actually orderly rather than chaotic even more so. And most of those that are public...well, they aren't willing to wear you full-time."

"I see. Was that the impression I gave? That whomever bore me would be under my control for eternity? I am not that desperate, child. Not yet."

"Implying you _can_ get that desperate."

"If Klarion or another of similar temperament were to start threatening the world...I would indeed be so desperate as to discard all pleasantries and restraint. As things stand...an agreement between myself and the bearer, or bearers, would be more than sufficient, provided it be binding in more than mere ink and paper."

I nod. "I... _might_ be able to ask around, find a few people. Not sure, still, but going to ask a few people who know more, and probably hand the Helmet over to them. Either that, or...hmm. Have you considered a golem? Something to hold your soul?"

"I had considered such techniques before deciding on my current...phylactery."

"Miiiight want to reconsider that term."

"Unless the study of the arcane has advanced a great deal in the last fifty years since Doctor Nelson last bore me...the loss in power and control would be far too great to allow me to pursue my duties as a Lord of Order."

"Damn. Alright. Still, the list work?"

"It is...acceptable. For now."

"Right. So, what I was going to ask…"

"If it is about your physical condition, there is nothing I can do. Your body is too deeply tied to the Red, and to that shard of clockwork horror."

"No, I've got a few ideas on how to deal with that. Then I frown. "I thought Lords of Order _liked_ clockwork."

"That thing's ancestors do not embody order. They embody stagnation and destruction."

"Riiiight. Anyway, no, not about that. How much do you know about biomantic techniques?"

"Less than you might think. I can restore injuries by reversing the disorder induced into their bodies, but full-fledged biomancy is not entirely part of Order's domain. I have the theoretical knowledge, but my magical affinity is not the most proper tool for the task at hand."

"How about turning a human-Kryptonian hybrid into a full Kryptonian?"

"You speak of the boy who bore me during the confrontation at Salem. No. I cannot, for he was born as a hybrid, not turned into one. You, on the other hand…"

"Wouldn't that go into conflict with his soul?"

"He is young, and from what I saw within his mind much of his psyche was constructed around the idea of having his full power. If you knew as much of biomancy as I did…"

I grin. "Would you be willing to teach?"

"I am...not particularly comfortable being in contact with your soul for an extended period of time. But the Tower of Fate possesses many tomes and texts you would find useful. I will grant you access to the key. Do not abuse this privilege, mortal."

In the void, a shining golden key shimmers into existence. I grin wider, and reach out to take it, then stop myself and bow. "Thank you, Lord Fate."

"It is of little consequence. Now go."

The floating helmet vanishes, and I get the distinct sensation of falling, before.

I look up at Elias, and flute-sigh. ++You can put the pole away now.++ I hold up a hand, and he helps me up.

"So, any luck?" he asks.

I bare teeth and mandibles in a grin as I hold up the gold-glowing shape of a key. ++How do you feel about a library trip, Elias?++

###

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Topic: A New Bug Controller (Hero)  
In: Boards ► Metahuman Tracking ► Confirmed Activity  
MetroBeat (Original Poster) (The Guy in the Know) (Original Poster)  
Posted On Aug 3rd 2010:  
Well, we've got two new heroes on the ground here in Metropolis, folks. One people are probably talking about is the one we're tentatively calling 'Superboy', based on his powers and costume, and his thread is here.  
The other is either freaky or awesome (or both): seems Superboy has a friend who can control bugs. Video here of him using thousands of spiders to stop an accelerating car during the collapse of a local suspension bridge.

(Showing page 1 of 16)

►PhantomStalker (Verified Gotham Resident)  
Replied On Aug 3rd 2010:  
Bug control? In Gotham? Man, oh man, you gotta swing by my apartment. I think the cockroaches in the fridge are forming their own society.

►Mitchelltrt (Unverified N00b)  
Replied On Aug 3rd 2010:  
Nope, Nope, Nope, Nope! Everybody out of the universe! Creepy Bug Man can go that-a-way, and I will stay far away from creepy crawly things.

Seriously, good work for the new heroes. Better choice than going Villain like Poison Ivy or something.

►Professor Janus (Verified Sane Man) (Change for the Change God)  
Replied On Aug 3rd 2010:  
Whelp, time to find out where Superboy came from and what his gimmick is.

Bug boy?

I am interested to see what he can/will do with it.

►Stalking_Fan  
Replied On Aug 4th 2010:  
i have already written porn of this 'Bug Boy' and this 'Superboy' here's a sample:

Post removed by moderation. (not the SB mods)

►StripeyOrangeCat (temp-banned)  
Replied On Aug 4th 2010:  
Cool! Do you think he creates the bugs, or controls ones in his area? Hey, Bug Hero, if you're ever near the border of Qurac and Byalia, come by the nature preserve! I've been trying to catch some rare ones and maybe you could help me find them! Mom's a good cook and maybe you could have dinner or something. Or if you don't eat human food, there's lots of natural stuff you could find out here and you could tell us about it!

►ModMan (Moderator) (Not actually a superhero)  
Replied On Aug 4th 2010:  
See, Stalking_Fan, posters StripeyOrangeCat's age are why we don't permit such things on this site. Let's keep it family-friendly.

►Stalking_Fan  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
is it safe to post again? cuz I've been In~spiiiiiireeedddddd! ew. just ew.

►TricksterCommaThe (Verified Supervillain)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
Don't you mean "in-spidered," Stalking_Fan?

►Stalking_Fan  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
please leave the lame puns to the mods. they only have me to punish and bad puns. LEAVE THEM SOMETHING

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 14, 15, 16

(Showing page 2 of 16)

►TricksterCommaThe (Verified Supervillain)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
My therapist says venting my pranks through online pun-ishment is morally acceptable and legal behavior, and a healthy outlet.

►ModMan (Moderator) (Not actually a superhero)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
Be that as it may, while TheRealFlash has vouched for you and that's why you're allowed on these forums, Trickster, please remember to follow forum rules. This discussion of puns and forum policy thereon constitutes a derail if it goes much further. Stay on topic, please.

►TricksterCommaThe (Verified Supervillain)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
Oh! I can do that! Just watching him in action has given me a GREAT idea for a trick involving phone spiders and telebees! ALL of the TELEBEES!

►TheRealFlash (Verified Superhero) (Fastest Man Alive)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
Now, Trickster, you wouldn't want the new hero to have to teach you a lesson, would you?

►TricksterCommaThe (Verified Supervillain)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
...good point. Oh, look, I think it's time for my meds... _

►Cthulu's Bastard Son (Verified Eldritch Abomination)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
Seeing as a bug man can become a hero, should I give it a shot as well?

►StripeyOrangeCat (temp-banned)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
Sure! More superheroes is always a good thing, Cthulhu's Bastard Son! What's an eldritch, anyway? Is it related to abominable snow men? We don't get snow where I live, but I always thought they were cool.

►Sal Mander  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
Wait, Superboy? Does that mean Superman is now Superdad? Why haven't we seen him around before?

Bug control? Hope this won't turn into a Poison Ivy situation with superbugs, and a horror penalty for squishing spiders.

►Mitchelltrt (Unverified N00b)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
I doubt it. Ivy never really even tried the whole "hero" thing. She is more "BIOTERRORISM! ALL THE PLANTS ARE BELONG TO ME! PLANTS FOR PRESIDENT!"

►ARCology (Verified Dreamer)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:

A thing just got released about Superboy. Clone, apparently. Sorry, shippers.  
No word on the bug guy though.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 14, 15, 16

(Showing page 3 of 16)

►Mitchelltrt (Unverified N00b)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:

So why was Superboy not using Flight, or Laser Eyes, or any of Superman's other abilities besides "hit hard" and "don't get hurt"?

►MetroBeat (Original Poster) (The Guy in the Know) (Original Poster)  
Replied On Aug 5th 2010:  
Like I said, thread for discussing that is here.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 14, 15, 16

Topic: Possible Bug Controller Link?  
In: Boards ► Metahuman Tracking ► Unconfirmed Activity/Linking Movements  
AccessGranted (Original Poster) (Reporter)  
Posted On Sep 9th 2010:

Not sure...anyone else think this is the same guy as in this thread? We've got Superboy, Aqualad, and whatever the hell he is working to stop the League of Shadows, as reported here, from disrupting the Rhelasian talks...but pretty darn sure the insect controller that worked with the Boy of Steel was human. Did something happen? Asking to resolve a workplace betting pool that's been going around for the past couple days.  
Video here, apologize for quality, but having your camera's power cut by a tea-trolley bomb is not precisely conducive to keeping them running.

(Showing page 1 of 1)

►ModMan (Moderator) (Not actually a superhero)  
Replied On Sep 9th 2010:  
This has been merged with the Legion thread, as well as the speculation threads previously dedicated.

End of Page. 1

Topic: I Am Legion  
In: Boards ► Metahuman Tracking ► Hello World  
PlagueNumberEight (Original Poster) (Verified Hero) (Verified Pile of NOPE) (Verified STAR Labs Test Subject) (Verified Plague of Kahndaq)  
Posted On Sep 10th 2010:  
So, finally found this site.  
Huh.  
Okay, so here's the gist, mostly so people will stop ranting about me being an eldritch abomination.  
I'm the guy from the news working with Aqualad and Superboy to stop the League (of Shadows. Not the Justice League.) Pics here. (Photograph is of Legion in bug mode, wearing a long red coat, black shorts, a grey shirt that says 'FREE HUGS' in black type on the front, and a large red wide-brimmed hat. He carries a staff that appears to be made of bone in his right hand.)

I go by the name 'Legion'.  
My powers started off as a combination of insect control and the ability to dissolve into insects and reform myself plus whatever I have on me. That was why I looked normal during the Metropolis thing.  
Then a few days ago a telepath decided to try to mind-whammy me and my friends. I got the brunt of it, and...well, you know the Evil Overlord List and what it says about never consuming an energy field larger than your head? Kinda ignored that thanks to the mind-wipe and ensuing panic. So, now I'm an angry mantis-man with minor telepathy and the same bug powers. And elemental magic. Yay.  
Don't worry too much, I'm adjusting pretty well to the body horror. I'll be hanging around this thread to answer questions as needed about the stuff that happened at the summit.  
Also, anyone who wants to talk to me in person and is in the Rhode Island area can stop by Happy Harbor on Monday mornings during the local market time, I'll be selling my wares, freaky appearance or not.

I've asked the mods to merge in the previous speculation threads about me so I can answer questions previously asked easily, so...

Also, Stalking_Fan...  
No. Just no. And if you show up, I'm unleashing the bees, I swear by the Red, the Green, and the Clear.  
That goes for you too, Ruby.

StripeyOrangeCat:  
Hmm. I'll see what I can do, kid. You're the Logan Animal Sanctuary, right? I'll ask around, see if I can get permission for a field trip. Some of my friends need social interaction that doesn't revolve around punching things in the face.

(Showing page 1 of 22)

►AggrievedContinuously (Verified Ragequitter)  
Replied On Sep 9th 2010:  
Is nobody going to talk about the fact a little kid shot someone on live TV? Or how the bug controller covered people in bees and spiders? That's not normal.

►Stalking_Fan  
Replied On Sep 9th 2010:  
NOPE NOT TOUCHING THAT! excuse me whilst I persuade my twin sister to read me her most stereotypical and sappy romance book she has to scrub the image that conjured out of my mind. and NO I will not be writing a porn scene based off of it.

►FastEater (Verified Big Eater)  
Replied On Sep 9th 2010:  
He's creepy, but he means well.

►TheHammerofBans (Moderator)  
Replied On Sep 9th 2010:

The League has published a press release that's linked here, discuss there instead of here.

►TaylorHebertofGotham (Can't Take Me) (Verified Meta)  
Replied On Sep 10th 2010:  
Congrats, you got a little cut-rate me.

►ShadowFae13 (Half Fae, All Awesome)  
Replied On Sep 10th 2010:  
How does your elemental magic work? And what's the source of your power? It doesn't seem like psionics or any form of magic.

And are the rumors of Kid Flash being a idiot true? I've never gotten a awnser about that.

►CompositeWriter  
Replied On Sep 10th 2010:  
hmm. Legion ay? let me ruin your everything. OH GOD. afjlaf;aj;g;ajf;jag;jag;akgamf;8i8i8i8i8i8i8i8i8i8i8i8i8i8iyh7juyh7juyh7juyh7juyh7juyh7ju88888888 no. why would you put that in THERE?!

►Stalking_Fan  
Replied On Sep 10th 2010:  
*coughs* excuse the random sections of the post. that was the aforementioned twin sister. as the mods can see she's waaaaaaay lewder than me and it doesn't help that Legion is literally her fetish in sapient form.

►Dunk1010 (Verified Kingsguard)  
Replied On Sep 10th 2010:  
What, exactly, do you mean by "the Red, the Green, and the Clear."?

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 20, 21, 22

(Showing page 2 of 22)

►ShadowFae13 (Half Fae, All Awesome)  
Replied On Sep 10th 2010:  
The Red and Green are elemental forces that connect the animals(red) and plants(green) of earth's biosphere together. And by elemental I mean less gases and hyrdogen and more "elemental plane of fire". It's magic/psionics stuff.

From what I've heard they can get weird though. Not sure what the Clear is, maybe machines?

►PlagueNumberEight (Original Poster) (Verified Hero) (Verified Pile of NOPE) (Verified STAR Labs Test Subject) (Verified Plague of Kahndaq)  
Replied On Sep 10th 2010:  
ShadowFae13:  
1) I'm not Ibac-stupid, so no comment.  
2) No comment.

re: the Clear, it's things that live underwater. Yes, I know it makes no sense for them to be separate from the Red and the Green. Trust me, I've had that damn cat complain enough about it as it is...

CompositeWriter

Ew.

►StripeyOrangeCat (temp-banned)  
Replied On Sep 10th 2010:  
OMG OMG OMG! Really, PlagueNumberEight!? YES! That would be totally awesome! And yeah, Logan Animal Sanctuary! PM me and I'll let Mom know and we can set up a time 'cause she's busy and she'll be happy to have guests but she'll want to know you're coming!

YES YES YES! AWESOME!

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 20, 21, 22**

 **3:02 PM EEST, Saturday, September 12, 2010**

 **Logan Animal Sanctuary**

++Thank you for your agreeing to let us come, Ms. Logan,++ I broadcast 'quietly', so as not to attract M'gann's attention from where she was parking the bioship. The resemblance between the two of them is uncanny, and I think there's something deeper going on. I don't want to pry, though.

"It's no trouble," the conservationist says. "We don't get many visitors out here." Her expression sours. "Those that aren't Bialyan 'border patrols', at least."

++Trouble?++

"They usually keep their distance. Usually."

++Hmm.++ I shrug. ++Alright. Anything I can do to help around?++

"I read your question and answer bit online," she muses. "Think you can check over some of the herds for parasites, maybe make some progress getting rid of them?"

++Easy. Oh- hold on.++

A swirl of insects coalesces in front of Garth as he exits the barn. He jumps, then stares. "Cooool."

The cloud condenses into a man-shaped swarm, then nods, firefly-eyes flaring. Garth's grin widens as it points in our direction.

Behind the barn, as the bioship's ramp sclorched into existence, another swarm-clone formed itself, greeting our little party. The Sphere rolls out first, giving me a curious beep before moving aside. Match comes out next. Still not sure _why_ his vision isn't adversely affected by his eyes, but apart from that, in his biker's jacket and bluejeans he almost looks normal. Cassandra's opted for tomboyish clothing, trousers and a bright yellow tee, and she seems far younger than she actually is, just judging from the way she's staring in awe at the sky. Last off are Elias and M'gann.

They're holding hands. When did...hm. Okay, fair enough, I'm probably a bit oblivious. And I've stopped doing the whole omnipresence act after Kaldur complained the effects of having whatever the hell my soul has turned into being _everywhere_ was causing what amounted to magical static interference.

The swarm-clone motions them in the right direction, and I see Garth's face light up moments before he breaks into a sprint, shouting incoherently with excitement.

The Red preserve me, he's another Wallace.

++He...doesn't get out much, does he?++ I muse as Hurricane Logan closes rapidly. I wave, diverting his attention, but even at his current speed I'm still quite a distance away. The benefits of being able to swarm-port from a flying bioship to the ground.

"No," Ms. Logan says with a sigh. "There's online schools, but with the distances involved…"

++No father?++

Her gaze sharpens. "None I want anywhere near either of us."

I raise my hands. ++Crystal clear, ma'am.++ I pause. ++Oh, fair warning...one of my team mates, the Martian, seems really interested in you for some reason. I have absolutely no idea why, though.++

She frowns, but nods slowly. I can still feel the buzz off M'gann, like an unholy combination of a caffeine high and what I'm assuming is pure unbridled joy. It's actually rather unnerving.

"OhmyGodyouactually _came!_ "

...aaand Garth's in shouting distance. I find myself wanting to smile at his enthusiasm, but squash it down. Terrifying both of the people who haven't gotten used to my weirdness is not the way to start things.

++Yuuup,++ I drawl. ++I said I would, didn't I?++ Teammates are coming up now. ++So. Introductions?++ I wave the others over, and Garth starts doing a goldfish impression.

++Alright, so, in no particular order...you guys want to use codenames or real ones?++

Elias and M'gann exchange glances, then both nod. Right. They're the only ones who'd have to worry about it. Everyone else doesn't bother. Especially Cassandra. The news hadn't been kind to her, even if they backed off after the League announced her adoption and Cain's _long_ history of abuse.

Note to self, mail G. Gordon Godfrey a large box of daddy longlegs with instructions to swarm him.

++Alright then. Elias and Match Kent. Match is the one with the eyes and bad-boy demeanor. Meanwhile we have M'gann M'orrz, our pilot, and the Sphere. It's...well, a sphere. Hiding behind it is Cassandra. And last of all, myself. I go by the name Grant when I'm not working. Everyone, Missus Marie Logan, and her son Garfield.++

M'gann is making a high-pitched 'eeeee' noise in the back of my mind. And Ms. Logan's eyes are narrowing as she looks at M'gann. She opens her mouth. Stops. Sighs. "Is there a reason you look like I did when I acted in that ancient sitcom?" she asks.

Is it bad that I want a bucket of popcorn?

M'gann blushes, and the 'eee'ing stops. "Oh! Um...well, Martians don't normally have...all this," she says, prodding her hair. "And your show was pretty much the only thing I'd ever seen from Earth. So, um...I kinda based my human form on you?"

Ms. Logan makes a half-smile. "You know, this is probably the first time I've met an actual fan of that old thing. I'm not sure I should be flattered or worried that aliens are the ones to find it important."

++Why not both?++ I ask, and M'gann looks scandalized briefly before laughing.

"O-okay, right, people on Earth don't seem to care all that much, and...a lot of people on Mars didn't either. But _I_ did, and…" M'gann sighs. "I knew you were working out here, and when Grant asked us if we wanted to go...well, the Bio-ship was the only way here, and I...wanted to meet you."

"Well, now you've met me. Sorry I'm not what you expected."

"No! I...I didn't think you'd be like...Megan was."

Match raises a hand. "Okay, I'm totally lost right now," he says bluntly.

Ms. Logan sighs. "Come on. I think I still have the old tapes somewhere."

 **3:12 PM, Same Legion day, same Legion date**

++Well, that was...interesting,++ I say flatly. Everyone else looks fairly awkward, so I'm assuming the feeling about that little aberration of a sitcom is shared pretty much universally.

Elias shrugged. "It was...alright," he says eventually.

"So, that explain things for you?" Ms. Logan asks Match. Match shrugs.

"Kinda. Still don't get why you don't just look like your uncle. He's not all that different."

++!++

Don't... _know_ what that was, but M'gann seems afraid, even if it doesn't show on her face. Why?

Oh, wait. In the comics, wasn't she a White Martian? And the other Martians were huge racist assholes?

Ohhhhh _h_. Is that why-?

Why is she looking at me.

"Martians...we're shapeshifters. And we...well, we don't look like my uncle," she says slowly, hesitantly. Cassandra's giving her a curious look as the Sphere warbles supportively.

"So what _do_ you look like?" Garth asks.

M'gann freezes up for a moment, then gives me another look and takes a deep breath. Her skin begins to pale, and her form begins to swell.

I whistle to the tune of _Werewolves of Armenia._ ++Now that? That's interesting.++

M'gann's true form even towers over mine, standing high on digitigrade legs, her skin white as snow. Purplish membranes under the arms and along her neck probably let her breath on Mars...I don't know, I didn't get far in my bio degree and analyzing the physiology of divergent planetary populations is far beyond me. She steps back, practically radiating nervousness.

"That. Is. Awesome!" Garth shouts.

Cassie winces at the sudden shouting, before resuming staring up at M'gann. Then she nods decisively, and walks around the couch to hug her around the legs.

M'gann startles, then bends down slightly awkwardly to hug her back. Her form shifts again, hue darkening as she shrinks back to her normal self. Elias walks close to her, puts a hand on her shoulder protectively.

"How do you do that? Does that mean Martians aren't green? Does that mean Martian Manhunter isn't green? What about-"

"Garth," Ms. Logan says warningly. The boy pauses.

"Sorry. But that's still awesome!"

Hmm?

++Sorry to break up the fun, but I left some bugs when we crossed the border, and we've got what looks like a tank patrol headed our way,++ I say flatly.

"That's _miles_ away," M'gann says. "How are you even sensing that?"

I grin, and heft my bone staff. ++The Red provides, M'gann. The Red provides.++

 **?, presumably Wednesday, September 8th, 2010**

 **Somewhere in The Red**

I point at the cat. " **Mr. Mistoffelees!** "

" _No._ "

" **Damn. Okay, fine, what are you called?** "

"Socks. I am a member of the Parliament of Limbs. And I needed to speak with you. Your reaching for power to heal this Kryptonian simply made it easy to bring you here." The cat sits back on its haunches, and licks its forepaw fastidiously. Then it glances at Match. "Sleep."

The Kryptonian topples backwards.

O….kay then. Should probably not continue mouthing off to the cat.

I swallow. " **Want us not to be overheard?** " I ask.

"Precisely."

" **If you're here to offer me a job as Champion, thanks but no thanks. I don't think letting** _ **me**_ **have control of the anthrosphere would be a good idea.** "

I jangle the chains wrapped around my left arm. Three guesses where those go, first two don't count.

The cat chuckles. "No, we have no intentions of doing so. The Parliament does not need a Champion as the Green does. Not for now."

Well wasn't _that_ ominous. " **So. What's your game?** "

"You recall Buddy Baker? He was the last to realize we empowered him."

" **And he vanished during the nineties. What, did he ascend to a higher plane of existence, and that's why you're here? To warn me the same might happen?** "

"Hardly. Baker...despite the potential he had, he did not innovate, and while he extended his abilities...he did not make an effort to move beyond them. He tapped into our power to expand his options, but he did not think of what else the Red could be used for. You...within a week of gaining an inkling of your nature, you built a spell circle that broadened your connection and increased your power by what amounted to constant ritual sacrifice. And now you're using that power to rebuild most of a nervous system, in perfect detail. Well, used, he's already fixed. You are...interesting, and thus we wish to lend you some aid, so long as you continue to innovate."

" **Is that why I have the staff?** " I ask, tapping the bone weapon on the ground. " **Didn't have this beforehand. Or the clothes. Your doing?** "

"The clothes are your fault, mortal, but the staff...consider it a gift. And a few small hints: your range is only limited due to the ability to give instruction- those you make your vessels will follow it even beyond that range. And your mortal form...it is born of your connection to this place. Such a connection can not be severed, but it can be controlled."

Huh. _Huh._ I grin. " **I think I'll have to think on that. Can I wake up now, though? Probably starting to worry the others.** "

 **3:41 PM EEST, Saturday, September 12, 2010**

 **Logan Animal Sanctuary**

++Match, Miss Martian, you're on flight and overwatch. Bialya likes their drones, so if they decide to strafe us it's up to you to keep everyone safe. Superboy, you're with me. We're going to go talk them into leaving. Sphere, Cass...stay with the Logans.++

I tap my staff against the ground, glad for the early warning. Paranoia or not, ordering a swathe of insects on the borders of the sanctuary to continuously transmit sight had paid off. The problem now is keeping a fight from happening. Too many civilians, and messing with the sanctuary would just be a bad idea in general. Wildebeest stampedes are not fun.

I can already see the dust kicked up by the tanks as they draw closer. No APCs, only a couple jeeps filled with infantry. Bialyans aren't all that good at combined arms, apparently. Probably a result of sanctions and the general problems they have importing materials and training their men as a result.

I focus, stretching out and reclaiming the bits of my early warning system, pulling those chunks of _me_ back into myself. Then I call out to every insect in my range, pulling them in. The long grasses _writhe_.

++Let's go greet our new friends,++ I broadcast, as a cloud of insects swarms up into the air, obscuring the house and barn from view. I get flashes of alarm from the Logans, but it's muted as I start to walk towards the approaching patrol. Fireflies guide Superboy to my side as the sky goes black with insect life.

" _Attention Bialyan fuckwits,_ " the swarm _roar_ s as the patrol stops dead. " _You are in an international wildlife sanctuary, and I'm pretty damn sure you're aware of it._ " The swarm coalesces around the patrol, flying insects darting close to but never touching the open-topped jeeps. " _Turn around now, or I will be_ extremely _unhappy._ "

I see the Bialyans in the jeeps exchange looks. Then the entire patrol reverses as one, vehicles swinging around and running for the border.

Is it bad I was actually hoping they'd be stupid enough to fight us? Eh, sanity is for other people.

++Looks like they're backing off,++ Miss Martian broadcasts.

++Right. Ms. Logan, you and yours okay?++

"Mom, what's a fuckwit?" Garth asks.

…

I'm not explaining that.

"We're...fine," Ms. Logan says flatly to the bugs still in the house. "But they'll be back."

++Oh, I'll set up some things to keep them out. Bees ironic enough?++

"What? Bees?"

++Sure. Set it up so that an endless swarm of fuzzy, yellow-and-black death goes after anyone who intends trouble.++

"Then yes, bees are fine."

###

 **8:49 AM EDT, Monday, September 13th, 2010**

 **Happy Harbor**

Happy Harbor's market isn't exactly _bustling_ most times- even with the prestige of having the League's old headquarters there, it's still a smallish town, and it isn't exactly tourist season at the moment.

That doesn't stop there being a rather large crowd in front of my booth, most of them rubberneckers. Almost none of them are actual Happy Harbor residents.

I've brought this upon myself. I involved the Internet. _Nothing_ good happens when you involve the Internet.

I send the latest actual customer away happy with a blouse wrapped in plastic film, and glance up at the blonde woman behind as I get a brief burst of trepidation from Cassie, who's come along to help Match and I with setting things up.

++Ah, Ms. Grant. What can I do for you?++

She gives me a trained, made-for-TV smile. "Would sitting for an interview be too much to ask?"

++Do you have a telepathy-to-speech device handy? Otherwise, all your audience will end up hearing is me making bug noises.++ I grin, and am rewarded as she pales slightly, smile going brittle. ++If you aren't going to purchase anything, we can talk later,++ I say flatly. ++For now, there are other people waiting.++

She nods, and walks off quickly.

I get a bit of amusement from Match. ++Don't you think that was a little hard on her?++ he asks. I focus, and get a flash of his viewpoint as he wanders the market.

++She works with _Godfrey_.++

++Oh.++ Something in his mind goes tight and angry. ++Be as mean as you like, then.++

I nod to myself, and motion the next person forward. _This_ one looks like an Englishman who got lost on his way to a funeral. He has a top hat, for God's sake! I reach out to see what he wants-

And immediately _stop_ as I see that the Englishman has the deepest, darkest shadow I've ever seen, despite it being a cloudy, overcast day.

"Skkkuur." ++Ah...Mr….should it be 'Shade' or 'the Shade'? Sources differ.++

"Just 'Mr. Shade' will do nicely," Richard Swift says. The corner of his mouth quirks upwards. "It's been a while since I last needed a suit, but I have heard good things about both your quality and your pricing."

++It's easy when you make your own materials and can do the work in your sleep,++ I say. ++So, step into my office?++ I motion to the closed-off cubicle that sits behind my table, and Shade nods before stepping around the table and opening one of the hinged sides. I give Cassie a nod and follow him in. It's pretty bare inside, save for a trunk, a stand with several clothes hangers, and a couple of stools. ++Most of the work I do back home, since it's time-consuming. Here, though...hope you're not an arachnophobe.++

Mr. Shade smiles thinly. "Hardly."

I think, if I still had the capacity for it, I'd be sweating buckets. This must be what tailors in Gotham feel like when one of the dons walks in. But I've got a job to do. I step around Mr. Shade and open the trunk, letting the hundreds of spiders within crawl out and up him. He reacts not at all.

++Anything in particular you want? Cut, fit, lining, buttons?++ I ask automatically.

"Something a bit more... _modern_ , than my current attire would be best, I believe," Mr. Shade says. The spiders are in position, and I get the arrangement locked in my head as another group dips forelegs in inkpots and begins to write down and sketch the measurements.

++Given your power, I have to ask if you'd want the more durable option or not,++ I ask carefully. Shade shrugs. "It is useful, I believe, to have a backup plan," he says. "So, yes, if you can make it more durable without interfering with the fit…"

++Easy enough,++ I muse. ++Black, I assume?++

"Of course."

++Right. Your size and with the durability...hmm. Does six hundred sound acceptable?++

"It appears your pricing is far off, young man."

++No. Six hundred dollars. Not thousands.++

"Ah. In that case, I begin to worry if I am exploiting you," Shade says.

++Hardly. Any other reason you're here?++ I ask slowly. ++I doubt you'd leave Opal City just to buy a suit and have a chat.++

"Do you know how rare it is to see someone turning their talents to industry? Of any kind?"

++It's one of my particular pet peeves, Mr. Shade. You came to see what I was doing?++

"Exactly. It's a rare thing, what you're doing. That, and I _did_ want a new suit." He pauses. "And I wished to offer some assistance with your form, if need be."

My mandibles twitch. ++Thank you for the kind offer, Mr. Shade, but I have a few routes of my own to explore in that regard.++

"Ah. I thought it would be only fair to offer." A motion of his hands, and six crisp hundreds appear in his hands. I take them carefully, and nod. ++My thanks.++

 **10:38 AM EDT, Monday, September 13th**

"I have to ask- why this? Isn't it a bit...I don't know, mundane?" Ms. Grant asks.

She's been alarmingly courteous. Perhaps I've misjudged her. Need to remember not to tar every newsie with the same brush I reserve for Godfrey and his sort.

I take a sip of my coffee as the swarm-clone answers for me.

" _Mundane is the_ point. _Consider it exposure therapy."_

"For you, or the town?"

" _Why not both? Besides, while the League pays my salary and my needs are met...more income is always useful. Heh. Never thought_ this _would be my first job, but then again, I never thought I'd end up something out of mankind's primordial nightmares, so life is strange anyway."_

"I can believe that. But still, custom-made suits for, what, six hundred dollars?"

" _Three, for the regular stuff. It only hits six when I start making the bulletproof versions."_

"I'm sorry. Bulletproof?"

" _I feed the spiders little bits of carbon in their water, and it's bonded to the silk. I've made similar costumes for my teammates. In the case of the suits...it won't stop rifle rounds but it's good against anything less energetic than that."_

"I...see. And you're not worried about criminals buying bulletproof clothing from you?"

I shrug. " _I'm only one man, and anyone who would travel all this way for a mildly bullet-resistant garment is also someone who could just afford a regular Kevlar vest, which would be much less of a pain to maintain and keep. I've done some work for people in the bodyguarding business, but I make most of my clients sign off and give their names. Sure, they could lie, but again, much easier just to buy a mass-produced vest than go to the trouble of deceiving me."_

"You didn't make the gentleman who came after me sign anything."

" _Because that gentleman I know, and he's one of the most terrifying people on this planet. I'm saying this about a planet that includes me, Batman, and things like Daemon Homunculi._ "

"So you were scared?"

" _He's a superhero, but yes, I was rather worried. The Shade is one of the very few people I don't think I could take in a fight."_

"I think we've gotten a bit off-topic, but alright." She smiles at the cameraman, then turns back to me. "You said the League pays your salary? So is working for them your full-time job?"

" _Pretty much. I'm a legal adult, and given the circumstances under which I was found, prospects were a bit thin on the ground. I figured working for the League was the best possible route once STAR Labs finished their testing. It's been...interesting."_

"So, what does 'working for the League' usually entail? Is it all stuff like what happened in Taipei? Or are you not allowed to say?"

I pause. " _Taipei...hmm. Typically, it's myself and other young heroes. Rather informal, actually- given that a lot of the time the more established ones will be off working with their mentors on another case, whatever mission we complete tends to be with who we have on hand. Usually we end up in places the League itself can't or won't typically cover, whether due to transportation or simply being too busy to handle it. Things like Taipei, where we end up involved in politics...typically, that doesn't happen. It only did then because the League of Shadows decided to destabilize the summit."_

"So if the Shadows hadn't tried, you wouldn't have gone?"

" _No, no. Red Arrow was the one on the scene. He's a...affiliate? I'm not sure of the proper terminology. He already figured the Shadows would find the peace summit a tempting target, and once he got confirmation, he called in the team as backup."_

"I see. There's film of him fighting out of costume. Is that...typical? League members or affiliates watching?"

I shrug. " _Couldn't tell you myself, given, well…"_ I motion to my own body. " _But not in my experience. Usually, it's local police who let us know when they want assistance. Red being there on his own was an anomaly, but he's always been a bit of a lone wolf."_

"Was there a reason he wasn't present at the second attack?"

I stop. Take a deep breath. " _There's...certain things I won't say. Breaches of privacy and all that. But I'll tell you what I can. How much do you know about Cadmus?"_

"The genetics company that made Superboy? What do they have to do with him?"

" _One of their genomorphs, the G-Gnomes, are telepathic. Cadmus used them to...for lack of a better word, program people. Turns out the Shadows were using them to mess with Red's head, keep him as an unwilling double agent. I'm a telepath myself, so when I saw what was going on I put him to sleep and got him out of there before they could force him to tell them anything he knew about the team."_

"Wait, so Cadmus had managed to mind control a hero, and nobody noticed? How long-?"

" _Six years. There was no change in his behavior, nothing to indicate control. After that debacle, everyone got telepathic scans from Martian Manhunter, and while Superboy had some truly nasty code words keyed to Cadmus staff, those were purged fairly quickly. We've continued checking since then."_ I stop. " _Cadmus got investigated even_ more _thoroughly since that happened. We've uncovered a few things, but I can't discuss those at the moment."_ I lean back in the cafe chair, then freeze. " _Excuse me for a moment,"_ I say, standing as I look at the TV.

Supervillain rampage? On the screen, I see a heavily built blond man hurl a car into a building, laughing as he does so.

The Terror Twins. Shit name. Shit _people_ , if the way they're wrecking buildings is any indicator.

I reach out to the Mountain.

++Legion to team. Grab your gear, and someone find Aqualad. We've got a situation in Alabama and I don't think anyone's in a position to fight these guys.++

++Robin here. Just talked to Batman about the same thing. Superman and the Manhunter are gearing up to go after them, they want Superboy and Miss Martian in on it too. Match, Legion, the two of you can come along if you want, apparently.++

I can _feel_ Match's grin, and I get a flash of movement as he scoops up Cassie and starts for the Mountain.

I nod respectfully to Ms. Grant. " _My apologies, Miss, but I believe that mess down south is something I've got to deal with."_

She snorts. "Not the first time this's happened. I suppose I'll be called over there soon enough myself."

I tip my hat. Literally. Still keeping that thing. " _Safe travels, then."_

 **11:02 AM EDT, Tuesday, September 14th, 2010**

 **Washington DC**

I may have overestimated the uselessness of the Hall of Justice. While this League's Watchtower isn't the BFG-equipped orbital supremacy station it was in the JLU 'verse, it's still kept secret from the public, with the Hall being the public face of things. I figured that meant it was pretty much entirely a tourist trap.

But even a place like the Hall has locked-off areas. And Justice League secure cells are one of those.

"You hear me, bug man? Let us out!"

Sadly, the soundproofing leaves much to be desired when you're in the hall containing said cells. I ignore Tuppence's outraged screeching in favor of working through another kata. The mere fact of my bodily changes doesn't mean I have to stop using the _jian._

"Tuppy, I don't think he's gonna listen if you're gonna keep shoutin'," Thomas says. I pause for a fraction of a second, then keep cutting. The blunted training sword _thwacks_ against the dummy heavily. I finish quickly, then lay the blade aside.

++Your brother is correct,++ I say simply. ++I am not particularly disposed to like either of you, and shouting like a deranged harpy is not going to help matters. You're in custody, they've set me and Match to watch you, and there's no way in hell the two of you are going anywhere. Yelling won't change that.++

"Fuck you, you goody-two-shoes freak! What th' hell did we do that you wouldn't in our place?"

++Kill eight people, for one.++

"We didn't kill nobody," Thomas says.

++You knocked out power to a significant part of Mobile, Alabama. Including to a hospital. The primary backup generator failed, and three critical patients lost their lives before the secondaries kicked in. Your car-tossing antics in Hattiesburg killed another two in fatal crashes. And three more in New Orleans. Would you like to know their names? Their families? The people they left behind?++

I'm close to the clear barrier that separates their cell from the hallway, looming over them. ++Eight lives gone because you decided to rampage after your little jewelry store caper failed. Probably more when they finish clearing the rubble you made of that parking lot. Because you were a pair of morons raised on beer and southern-fried genius.++

Tuppence looks angry. Thomas has gone pale.

++I could've done the same. But I didn't. And that, my pair of bumpkins, is why I'm a fucking superhero, and you're going to Belle Reve the moment my teammates get back.++

I let out a breath. ++Match. Keep an eye on them. I'm going to go for a walk.++ I give Thomas a look. ++Pay your damn debt to the people you killed, and keep quiet.++

###

 **11:21 AM EDT, Tuesday, September 14th, 2010**

 **Washington DC**

Dodging the tourist crowds and news cameras probably would've been difficult. Thankfully, dissolving into a horde of insects and reforming a considerable distance away solved that.

And possibly traumatized some children. Eh, they'll be fine. Probably.

The swarm touches down in a back alley, and I walk out fully attired. I'm still not sure where I should be going, but it's either this or punching one or both of the Terrors through the wall.

That would be wrong, right?

Right?

I look around quickly. Thankfully, the Hall's just north of tourist central, and it's easy to center myself. Okay, now walk like you know what you're doing. Nobody will want to mug-

I stop, and almost laugh. Nobody's going to mug me, unless they're drunk enough to have trouble walking. Side benefits. Joy.

Ooh, a coffee shop. Yes, please. The Trailer Park Duo interrupted my last one, and while caffeine doesn't have _quite_ the punch it used to I'm still a functional addict to the stuff.

To my surprise, nobody seems to react all that much to my presence in the Poll's Coffee. Only the barista gives me a sidelong glance as I walk up to the counter. ++Medium Red Eye, please,++ I ask. The cashier doesn't even react to telepathy beyond tapping in my order. I pay, take my coffee, and find a window seat.

Hell, I'm getting more reaction from the passers-by than I am the patrons here. What gives?

"Confused?"

I blink, and realize a woman's taken the seat across from mine. Black, hair held back by a headband in a largish bunch. I cock my head, and motion for her to continue.

"STAR Labs has a campus about...two blocks that way," she says, motioning northish. "All sorts of weird people come in here, since it's the only place to get decent coffee. You're nothing new, you know?"

My antennae twitch. ++Fair enough. Thanks for explaining that, Ms…?++

"Charles," she says. "LeTonya Charles." She holds out a hand, and I shake it.

++Legion,++ I say flatly.

"Huh. I've heard of you. You're the guy who sells stuff made by bugs in between the usual superhero stuff."

I shift an eye ridge. ++Superhero stuff?++

"You know. Punching people in the face, then taking them to jail, where they break out again."

++I don't think anyone we've put in Belle Reve has gotten out.++

"Yeah, but a lot of supervillains don't go there. I mean, people like the Joker…"

++Heh. Fair point. So, why come and talk to me?++

"Well, you did look like you were surprised that the cashier didn't shoot you on sight."

++He's got a dubiously legal shotgun under there, it seemed reasonable,++ I say with a shrug. Her eyes narrow. " _Seriously?_ " Then she blinks. "Actually, considering some of the things that've gotten loose from their experiments, it's actually pretty reasonable. Do you know how many supervillains go after DC? It's insane."

++They're _supervillains._ "

"Yeah, that makes sense."

++So, just here for the scintillating conversation?++

"A bit. But it's also a bit selfish."

++How so?++

"Well, I'm an economics student...and I'm trying to work out how superheroes have affected things. I mean, when Superman and whatever crazy person who's fighting him this week throw down in Metropolis, _someone_ has to pay for whatever gets wrecked in the process. But you don't see anyone trying to, I don't know, sell their stuff. Okay, you've got people robbing banks and jewelry stores, but that's... I figured I'd ask someone who _is_ a hero...where's the gain? Why do you think they just do stupid stuff with it?"

++Again, supervillains. Not exactly paragons of mental stability or intelligence.++ This makes it twice that I've discussed comic-book-logic with someone today. ++So what'd you do if you got powers?++

"I...don't know. Depends on what they were, I guess. I know I'd do just about anything for super strength. It's a lot more useful than people give it credit for."

++Someone should've told the Beresfords that,++ I muse. ++How about-++

THOOM!

The explosion is distant, but it rattles the windows anyway. Northward...right where the STAR Labs branch is. I sigh, and give the cashier a look. ++Mind if I borrow that gun?++ I ask as I stand. ++You would be _amazed_ at how effective they are if someone unleashed a pack of eldritch horrors during an ill-advised physics experiment. _Again._ ++

Cameron the gun shop owner is going to be either apoplectic or beside himself with joy at me actually using a gun. With only a couple lessons.

At least super strength means recoil won't be a problem.

 **11:35 AM EDT**

 _What the hell is this thing, and why won't it die faster?!_

The shotgun _roars_ , and the strange, shimmering figure stumbles back as whatever invisible field keeping it from taking damage fails suddenly, bleeding dots appearing on it. It ++[screeches angrily]++, and I'm sent hurtling back, only to dissolve back into my swarm-form and rebuild myself behind it.

Another blast, and it goes to its knees, only to rise slightly as the holes shift and buckshot falls out onto the floor. It begins to struggle back up, glaring at me with hate-filled eyes behind the shifting heat haze its spindly body generates.

No. I saw what it did to the security guards back in the front hallways. And the scientists. I'm not letting it get back up.

 _Devour._

The swarm falls on it, and I ignore the screaming that reverberates through my brain and the burning of the front ranks as they find flesh. It tastes like taffy, rippling through a thousand thousand mouths.

I keep moving.

Bugs are finding more and more survivors in the rubble, but fire and rescue are _taking their sweet time_ and I can't move fast enough to get them all out. Not in one piece, and not without risking dropping the building on them.

A chunk of rubbles hurtles towards me, and I smash it into gravel as another one of the burning figures flies right at me, too fast to react. Claws melt into and tear the shotgun barrel, and I drop the shattered remnants as it plunges those same claws into my heart. I ignore the pain as chitin shatters and organs tear in favor of grabbing the bastard thing by the head.

Bite of the Funnel-Web.

Burning flesh bubbles and turns to mush as the spell takes effect, and it drops. I drop back into swarm-form, flicking my mind out over the remnants of the building. How many-

A third, a beacon of hate and rage and anger, blinks out of existence. Someone fighting back? More minds are near it, scared human ones, some injured, some on the brink of death. I pull together a body outside a shattered doorframe and step inside.

 _Thunk_.

A knife? What does he think a knife is going to-

AAAARGH!

++Was that _really fucking necessary?_ ++ I shout mentally as my body crashes to the ground. I let it dissolve and rebuild again, and try stepping inside. ++I'm a damn superhero, you don't need to worry,++ I say flatly as I walk in again. ++Or shoot me with lightn-++

I stop as I take in the scene, then ignore the man with the world's worst case of Glasgow Grin in favor of the family huddled around the young man missing most of his limbs and face. I move fast, discarding the shotgun and leaning on the bone staff as I crouch down in front of him. Pulse still there, weak but there. Look deeper. Stumps are cauterized, mostly burn injuries. Minor concussion.

Benediction of the Red. _Be what you were, and be healed._

Red light blazes as the spell goes to work, and I feel parts of the colony die to fuel it. No matter.

" _Du? Die Legion? Bist du das wirklich?"_ the man in the extremely impractical long coat and white armor asks, voice slurred by the fact he's missing most of his left cheek to what looks like some very old and very nasty burn marks.

++I don't speak German buddy, but I'd very much like to know what's going on. Anyone?++ I give the elderly man crouching near his- son's? Let's go with that- unconscious form a glance, checking the name tag on his tattered coat. ++Dr. Stone?++

He blinks. Probably in shock. "The...the machine. It was just a transmitter. It wasn't supposed to do this, but-"

" _Oh Gott sei Dank, du bist es._ "

++What. Happened.++ I've got an itch in my carapace and I'm not sure it's because of the murderous alien creature I just had my swarm eat.

Dr. Stone points up at Glasgow German. "He came through! Him and those monsters! Then the machine melted down. We came here because we thought it'd be safe, but one of those damn things got in anyway! Elynor-"

I check the unconscious woman, Red light flickering around my fingers. ++Concussed, and she'll need hospital time, but I think she'll live.++

++Can't you hear me?++

I look up sharply at the German guy. ++Okay, buddy. I can. Start explaining. Actually...bad future, or alternate universe?++

The German man blinks. ++Future, I think. Can we-++

++Later.++ I extend the link to the others. ++Dr. Stone. Do you know how to move an unconscious person?++

"A...umm, fireman's carry?"

++Like a backpack. German guy, help me out here.++

++My name is Adolf.++

++And I will start caring when we've got everyone who's injured out of here. Now _move._ I've got the kid.++

"Victor. Will he be-"

++Once the spell finishes he'll be good as new.++

Bugs have already gotten the ones who can move under their own power out of the building. I can hear sirens passing the distant edges of the swarm.

Rubble in the upper floors shifts. Who-?

Manhunter. He's using his telekinesis to shift the rubble without dropping it onto the survivors. Good.

I tap my staff against the ground, and more bugs in the colony die as Victor, glowing redly, floats up off the floor.

++Hallway ahead's blocked. Follow me,++ I say quickly, striding out in a motion that isn't quite running. Don't panic. Panic is for people who aren't superheroes and expected to save lives.

Two collapsed hallways, three detours, and a detached electrical line later, I finally manage to lead the Stones and Adolf of the building. Fires are already being put out, and ambulances are practically lined up. Paramedics take charge of the Stones, but they leave Victor be. His limbs are visibly growing back now. And...I think they're afraid of the glowing. Hell, if I didn't know what it was I'd be afraid of the glowing.

Why is the Not-that-Adolf-Adolf still following me?

++Okay. Talk fast. What the hell were those things, why were they killing everyone, where the hell did you come from, and why can you shoot lightning?++

I get a burst of confusion. ++You...didn't know? They're- !++

Martian Manhunter floats down. ++Legion, what is-?++

" _Marsmensch!"_

Adolf hurls another knife at Manhunter as lightning blazes!

###

 **2:03 PM EDT, Tuesday, September 14th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

Batman is marginally less terrifying when he's not actually angry at _me_ so much as the world and media in general. Marginally.

"Explain how _this_ ," he said, gesturing at the series of still images, "is what is occupying media attention at the moment. Legion?"

I give the images a glance- one of Adolf the Faceless Wonder chucking a knife at Manhunter, one of him being immediately grabbed in a telekinetic vise and slammed face-first into the ground as the lightning splashes against Manhunter's defenses, and a third of me walking into the burning STAR Labs building with shotgun in hand- and instinctively go into a decent approximation of parade rest.

++I've filed a report, sir, but for the benefit of my teammates...Silas Stone, a physicist employed by STAR Labs, was working on what he called an 'interdimensional transmitter'. I looked over some of his offsite backups when I had a spare moment...best I can tell, he was hoping it would solve the light-lag problem with our current communications setup, allowing perfect data fidelity and instant transmission via routing it through universes with different physical laws. I think. A lot of technobabble in his abstracts. He fired the thing up, and instead of the absolutely invisible portal..++

" _This_ opened up." Batman pulls up another image. Security footage, showing a glowing purple portal.

++Exactly. And our assailant- an 'Adolf Reinhardt', judging from his dog tags- came through, pursued closely by three...creatures. The attackers displayed telekinesis, enhanced strength, and what I believe was either pyrokinesis or molecular destabilization. Either way, while nasty, nothing I couldn't handle.++

"And you acquired a firearm...why?"

++Because buckshot was less likely to bring the building down on any survivors than me hurling them through a wall, sir.++

"Very well. Continue."

++The creatures were mindless, savage. They only wanted to kill, humans specifically from what little I got from their minds. I put down two, and the third was killed by Mr. Reinhardt when it broke into the room he and the Stone family had concealed themselves in. I approached him, and was briefly incapacitated by his electrical abilities before reforming and convincing him to stop. I treated the injuries of Victor Stone- he'll recover, by the way- and arranged for everyone to get out of the building. By then my bugs had led anyone capable of moving under their own power or being moved by the same out of the building, since it was near collapse thanks to the catastrophic meltdown of the transmitter and the rampage of the three creatures.++

"And Mr. Reinhardt's attack on Manhunter?"

++We spoke briefly on the way out. He appeared to recognize _me_ , and from what I got out of him we're dealing with a time travel incident of some sort. Maybe a Earth-Mars war happens, and there's still bad blood? But I asked Manhunter, and he stated his people are...insular. They don't like even going as far as Deimos orbit.++

"Noted," Batman says flatly. "You left Match guarding the Terror Twins without informing the League beforehand. Why?"

++Because they were provoking me. I thought it better to deal with them with a clear head if I had to watch them, rather than...losing my head. So I went for a walk.++

"A walk that ended up with two dozen fatalities?"

Must...not...quip...

++An _enthusiastic_ walk, sir.++

Dammit! I hear Artemis trying extremely hard not to snicker, and failing.

"Very well. Anything else to add?"

++Mr. Reinhardt...with your permission, I'd like to take Match, and examine him further. There's something...not quite right with him, and I don't mean how he was frightened enough to attack Martian Manhunter on sight.++

"Frightened?"

++I know when someone's been backed into a corner, sir, and he looked like it.++

"Very well. After the League has done their own checking, you will be permitted to examine him. He's still unconscious, and will _remain_ that way until we can construct a proper containment facility."

++Understood, sir.++

"Dismissed. Legion, stay."

Match gives me a cautious look, but Artemis and the Roys pull him along and out of the Cave.

++Sir?++

"You spoke with Catherine Grant in an informal interview beforehand. Her network decided to clear the footage with us before airing it."

++I see. Did I do something wrong, sir?++

"Your performance was...adequate. However, you should not have mentioned Cadmus's status of legal investigation. Endeavor not to do so with any other organizations the League ends up looking in to in the future."

++Understood, sir.++

"Dismissed."

I don't quite run out of there, but it's close. Calm. I catch up with Match quickly. ++Who's watching the Beresfords?++

"Captain- sorry, _Major_ Atom took over. He also told me to pass on his thanks," Match says deliberately. He pauses. "What did you guys do for him?"

"You need to read the files," Artemis says with a small smile. Then she glances at me, and it vanishes. Hmm. "There's lots that's useful there."

"Alright."

 **3:07 PM EDT, Wednesday, September 15th, 2010**

 **Washington DC**

++Are you seeing what I'm seeing?++ I ask Match, whose eyes are focused intently on Mr. Reinhardt's torso. He nods slowly, and I look deeper still, tracing the ebb and flow of blood.

The scarring is _horrendous_ , covering almost his entire body, the worst of it centered around the crude metal implants that, as best as I can tell, are some sort of lightning rod. But most of him is baseline human. _Baseline_ baseline, not even a meta-gene.

Most of him.

++Shit, this looks like something _I_ would come up with,++ I mutter, before reaching out from the secure cell. ++Legion to Martian Manhunter. [image] Is this what I think it is?++

I get a sense of shock, turning rapidly into anger. ++I...believe so.++

++Right. So, interrogation?++

++What else have you discovered?++

++Medical missed a couple things, mostly a trace chemical in his bloodstream. Someone's been messing about with Red magic, judging from the traces, and, sir...I think that chemical's connected with the organ inside him. And given his reaction to me earlier, I think it's my work.++

++How so?++

++I'm the only one I can think of who's both a Red mage _and_ crazy enough to shove a Martian spleen into a person to use it as the basis for a magitech transformation into a animal-based metahuman. If he really is from the future, I could see myself doing something like this.++

++Noted. I will inform the Batman.++

 **3:23 PM EDT**

++You want _me_ to be the one asking questions?++ I ask incredulously. ++I'm not exactly trained in interrogation.++

"You stated he already trusts you," Batman says. "It'll be easier to find out why he attacked Manhunter on sight if we do this gently. We gain nothing if he decides not to talk."

I make a flute sound. ++Okay. So I go in, you wake him up, I figure out why he decided that a knife was the appropriate greeting method for a superhero?++

"Among other things. Here." He hands me a commbead. "We'll let you know what to ask."

I nod. ++Makes sense.++ I take the bead, and tuck it away behind an antenna. ++Let's do this.++

"Guh…"

++Good evening, Mr. Reinhardt."

Adolf's eyes flick open, and he sits up sharply. " _Die Marsmench…_ "

++I'd like to talk to you about that, actually.++

His eyes narrow as he sinks back down on the bed. ++Why... you're defending it? Why- wait. Wait. How old are you, sir?++

++Too young to be called that with seriousness. Nineteen, if you need a number to put to-++

Adolf laughs. Then keeps laughing, bending over with the force of it.

++Are you okay?++

" _Es funktionierte! Es funktionierte! Schieb deinen geilen Arsch hoch, Luthor,_ " - you know what, fuck it, time to copy his German, thanks for the lesson in how, M'gann- "you fucking moron! Ha!"

++I would _love_ to get some context for this,++ I say flatly. ++Such as why it appears future-me thought it necessary to shove Martian organs into your body and bind their shapeshifting to a limited connection to the Red.++

He freezes, then nods. ++The Martian...who is it?++

" _Explain quickly. And find out why he mentioned Luthor,"_ Batman says through my earpiece.

++I don't know what the case is where or when you're from, but Martian Manhunter is a trusted member of the Justice League. And he's rather annoyed at the fact you attacked him on sight."

The... Justice League? Then this _must_ be before Kansas, Adolf mutters.

++Okay, mate, time to stop speaking cryptically and to start making sense.++

You understand me now?

++Te-le-path. What happened at Kansas, when did it happen, what's Luthor got to do with you and the three murderous aliens appearing, and why the hell it's apparently normal to think of Martians as not being people.++

I didn't believe you when you said you mellowed over the years. I see I was wrong.

++Start. Talking.++

The world goes to shit, the entire League is killed after a horrifying event takes out most of the Midwest, heroes start coming out of the woodwork within a year. You and a few others of equal power bring magic and advanced technology forward, fix things as best you can, but America's gone from the edge of the Louisiana bayou to California. The world's united under the UN after a while. Strong. Protected. Then the Reach arrives.

" _An alien civilization. Not much on League files. Rather far away relative to us,"_ Batman says.

I think it's about...fifty, sixty years. They land on Mars, and ignore us for that time. And then Mars starts cutting off contact. They shutter our embassies, remove any human immigrants...it wasn't pretty. Any Martians on Earth get ordered to come back. Then the invasion begins, and we find out what the Reach did to them. Those things you fought? Every Martian turns into one of them to fight. Earth burned. We fought, but...there were so _many_ of them. The Reach...we _know_ they had a hand in it. There were Red Martians, White ones, Green ones...now there's just the Burning ones. Mindless attack dogs who go after any targets the Reach tells them to.

++Two apocalypses in a row, huh? So why the alterations, and why do they look like my handiwork? Did I go mad scientist over the decades?++

No, you...it is hard to explain. The Burning Martians were limited, altered. You stole some of their physiology...the Reach had conquered us by then, using their Martian patsies. Even with all our power, we couldn't stop them when they intervened and agreed to 'guide' both of us.

They were screening for metahumans, kidnapping them. Those of us who refused to surrender...Luthor- not yours, but his son- was one of our leaders, he needed fighters who could go undetected, then develop powers. You made us, made _me_ , what we are. Developed the drug that let us activate a limited kind of shapeshifting. We were hitting the Reach and the Martians hard, fading back into the civilian population...and we learned they wanted to use old Sivana technology to go back and kill our leaders before they could be a threat. We stopped them, stole the machine...a few of us had an idea, to come back and warn you before Kansas, before any of the disasters, happened. Luthor didn't like it, but we did it anyway, even while the Martians broke into our safehouse and started slaughtering us. And now I'm here. He stops, sits back. Please, convey my apologies to the...Manhunter. I had thought the attempt had been a failure, and the Burners were right on me.

++Sir, please tell me he's lying about most of this,++ I ask Batman.

" _He isn't."_

++Tell him I accept his apology,++ Mr. J'onnz says.

I pause. ++I will do that,++ I tell Mr. Reinhardt. ++This is...disconcerting news. Well, you've relayed your warnings. What do you plan to do next?++

Adolf shrugs. Honestly, I was expecting to be dead or captured by now. Your arrival was pure luck. He pauses. There was little of our technology left, by the end of the war. It is why this- -he taps his metal-lined jaw- -is so crude. My metamorphosis incorporates components from what was known as an electric eel, but it does not protect me from my own power, and the implants were necessary to keep me alive. But here, now...you must have better things. If it could be done…

I keep myself still. ++I'll have to talk with the League about what can be done. And about securing your release. Anything you can provide to prove your story would be invaluable.++ I stand. ++Anything else, Mr. Reinhardt?++

My clothing and gear...if it survived the fight, there should be a universal drive in one of the pockets. Enough data to prove what I say is true.

++Batman?++

" _One of the objects he was carrying was a thumb-sized device with no visible components. Ask him."_

++Is it a solid block about the size of a thumb?++

Yes! That is it!

++Then you have my thanks. Wait here.++

I walk out of the room, trying not to freak out.

 **4:23 PM EDT**

 **Mount Justice**

"Shit," Guy says bluntly, and I nod.

++Shit indeed. You can see why I wanted to talk to you. Stewart and John already got informed, but the more Lanterns bugging the Guardians about it, the better, right?++

"I've got a few files on the Reach...they're nasty people, all right. Like to show up and infiltrate pre-FTL places, like Earth," Guy says. "You're sure it's them?"

++Some of Mr. Reinhardt's files showed Scarab Warriors fighting the resistance. Hard to get more confirmation than _that_.++

"Okay, so the Earth gets invaded in fifty or so years."

++That, and the fact that _something_ kills the entire League beforehand. It's mostly that part, actually. That and the apparent fact that I end up taking part in an schizotech uplifter's wet dream for most of the timespan before it. How the fuck am I supposed to deal with that?++

"Well, this German guy's warned the League already, right? I don't think they'll be caught in whatever it was this time through. If it was bad enough to mess with that much of the US...yeah, they'll know what to look for before it happens."

++They don't even know what it _is,_ only that it happened in Kansas and was only stopped from destroying the rest of the US because I, Swamp Thing, and apparently Solomon Fucking Grundy got together and beat whatever it was to death with magic. Apparently future-me was a close-mouthed bastard, and Swamp Thing and Grundy weren't conversationalists either, so nobody actually _knows_ what happened! And the Team...shit.++

"What happened to the Team?" Guy asks.

++Miss Martian got called back to Mars. She probably ended up as one of the Burners. Superboy and Match...the Reach killed them. Aqualad died when the Martians invaded Poseidonis. Artemis and the Roys got old and retired, Robin died in his bed surrounded by an ad-hoc family of crimefighters, Kid Flash ended up dying trying to increase his powers...it's not pretty. I, meanwhile, apparently am an immortal. Though not as sane as I used to be. How the hell do I tell them that?++

"Like I said, the creepy guy arriving like he did means you don't have to," Guy says reasonably. "Put it in some files, let them know it's there...but you don't have to be the one to tell them, and hell, there's no guarantee it's gonna happen the way it did before."

I stretch slightly on the therapy couch. ++I _get_ that, it's the idea that I'm going to outlive everyone that's bugging me. Hell, I basically turned into Insect Alucard, but I didn't quite understand what that meant.++ I pause. ++You know, I ate one of the 'Burners',++ I say.

"You...ate?"

++Well, the swarm did.++ I raise a hand, and it shimmers. ++Apparently they destabilize molecules like this. Guess that confirms it- I take powers from the things I devour.++

"Well, damn. You going to try out the shapeshifting next?"

++I...don't think it works. Something's probably messing with it. I've got an idea anyway.++

"And that's…?"

I tell him.

"Huh. You gonna ask Zatara about that?"

I cock my head. ++Why wouldn't I? If I'm going to help save the world from a future apocalypse, I'm going to need to look my best.++

###

 **12:04 PM EDT, Wednesday, September 15th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"Is it just me, or is the Mountain starting to become the place where you collect people?" Wallace asks with a raised eyebrow.

++I have no idea what you mean,++ I say innocently.

"Suuuure you don't."

Adolf looks around curiously, a bag with his few meagre possessions slung over one shoulder. "This place is highly impractically designed," he says finally, the translator one of the Lanterns gave him hanging around his neck and lighting up in time with his words.

++It was built by superheroes. I'm sure practicality didn't enter the equation anywhere,++ I respond.

"Hey, we're practical!" Wallace objects. Adolf and I both give him a look. "Sometimes," he admits.

"You are wearing bright yellow and have a target on your chest," Adolf observes bluntly. He gives me a look. "Where do I bunk?"

++Down the hall, up the stairs, empty rooms start about four doors down.++ He nods, and vanishes through the doors with alarming speed.

"Creepy dude," Wallace says.

++His superpower is basically 'stab it in the face then electrocute it',++ I say. ++And it doesn't protect him from being shocked. I'm amazed he's still functional, so I'll take 'creepy'.++

"All right, fine. He's not coming on missions, after all."

++No, having the man with horrifically lethal powers along is a _great_ idea, Wallace.++

"Stop fucking around, _Grant._ "

++Sorry. I use snark to preserve the fragile tatters of my sanity.++

"Heh. But seriously, Cassie, Match, the original Roy, this guy, the Sphere...what's next? Are you gonna pick up someone with super-speed and an Atlantean just so you have a complete set?"

++Of what?++

"Us!"

++What about Robin?++

"I found Cassie in the air ducts yesterday. I'm pretty sure he's teaching her how to sneak around on the side."

++Huh. But no, I'm not collecting knockoffs of the Team. And how would Adolf fit in?++  
"Umm...hmm. Red Tornado? Lots of metal, has control of an element, and an actual adult?"

++Fair enough. Was there an actual reason you came out here to talk to me, or are you just here to ask about whether or not I'm building an anti-Team out of people with horrible pasts?++

"I'm just going to ignore that bit about an anti-Team. But...why is he _here?_ "

++Where else would he go? Also, I need a guinea pig and he was willing to volunteer.++

"Wha- _guinea pig_?!"

++I need to practice human alterations at some point if I'm going to fix Elias. Fixing his injuries and working out how to make his powers work without shocking him seems like good practice.++

"He seriously volunteered for that?"

++Yuuup.++

"For magic surgery."

++Don't tell me you still think magic isn't real.++

"I don't think we need to dress it up, is all. You fixed Match, and grew back that other guy's limbs, with no preparation, and I know you don't have technology. It'd...be kinda stupid to say it's not something real after that. But it doesn't mean you've got to put on a pointy hat and robes and start muttering stuff."

++Fair enough. And yes, he did. Trusts me implicity.++

"Huh."

++Yeah, it's weird for me too. Hey, can you tell me where Artemis has gone off to? She keeps avoiding me.++

"Think she and Roy Two are still off in Star City. Oh, and everyone else went to Gotham to get pizza."

++And not you?++

"Someone's got to watch the place."

I blink. ++You, turning down food? Who are you and what have you done with Wallace?++

"Ha ha. No, they're bringing stuff back. Miiight want to warn them. I don't think Aqualad's all that prepared for the German dude's face."

++And Robin?++

"He lives in Gotham."

++Fair point. Anyway, if Artemis stops by, let her know I want to talk.++

 **3:12 PM EDT, Wednesday, September 15th, 2010**

 **Hall of Justice**

"Back again? Thought you didn't like us much," Tuppence says coldly.

++I don't. But there's a limited pool of people who are actually willing to watch you, inhibitor collars or none. And I can bottle up all the anger your existence provides me with and unleash it upon the more deserving, so it benefits me.++

"Listen, you-"

"Tuppy, I think that was a joke," Thomas says.

++Precisely, my fellow Southerner.++

"And now he's just being an ass. And I don't think he's from home."

++Not as deep as you, but still born in the Bible Belt,++ I say, leaning back against the wall. ++It's the truth.++

"You don't sound like it."

++My parents weren't, and so the accent didn't stick.++

"You here for a reason, or do you just like to hear yourself talk?" Tuppence asks. "Going to tell us how we're bad people, how we should feel bad 'bout accidental deaths?"

++If you need to be told that you should be headed for Arkham, not Belle Reve,++ I say. ++But someone wants to talk to you, so…++ I dangle a pair of inhibitor collars from one hand. ++You want to go?++

Thomas blinks. "Give me the damn collar."

 **3:20 PM EDT**

++Ms. Charles, Thomas and Tuppence Beresford.++

She smiles slightly as the two take their seat in the modified interrogation room across from her. It's poorly lit, bare concrete and steel furniture.

"The hell're you? Some kinda shrink?" Tuppence asks.

"No, just an economics student who's owed a favor," she says.

I had not expected her to hold me running out over my head, but after checking with Batman on whether or not someone was allowed to actually talk to the people who had been tried _in absentia_ and sentenced to Belle Reve, I'd offered this. A chance to talk to supervillains, find some motivations.

It's weird that supervillains can be tried without being present, but between the damage even a low-level metahuman can do to a place without a power suppression system and the fact that most villain attacks are extremely public, their criminal trials are largely formalities. It's how we were even able to pull off sending M'gann and Elias off in their stead.

"So why're you here?" Thomas asks. "What d'you want?"

"My names is LaTonya Charles, and I'd like to talk to you about why you became supervillains." She takes out a recorder, and turns it on. "Mind if I record this?"

Thomas blinks, and even Tuppence looks slightly taken aback.

"Sure, but….the hell d'you mean by that?"

"What's your background? Why'd you decide holding up a jewelry store was the best way to go? And why the rampage? You guys have super strength, after all."

"You ever try gettin' a job in Alabama, Missy?" Thomas asks, leaning forward slightly. "Ain't 'zactly easy when you never went to a college an' your ma's the damn town drunk. What exactly were we supposed to do? Government didn't care about us, town didn't care about us, we decided to go out on our own. And sure, we're strong, and tough. Hell, we fought Superman! But that isn't gonna help when someone wants a piece of paper for everything and you don't have it."

"What about the military?"

"You think they'd take us?" Tuppence sneers.

"With your powers, Special Forces would love you. Or if that's not your thing, the FBI would love to hire invulnerable field agents. I don't think they'd care all that much about your education."

"You're shittin' us."

"No, it's just a logical thought. Or if you're a bit squeamish about blood, you could just go into salvage. Breaking down ships is expensive, but you could do it in seconds."

"That pays?"

"Pretty damn well. Capitalism loves doing things cheaply, and paying you ten grand a ship is still cheaper than breaker yards. More American, too."

"Ffffffuuuuuuck."

"You didn't think about that?"

I'm expecting the gods of DC to take notice and slap us down with a lightning bolt for attempting to cut not-quite-Lex-Luthor a check. But nothing happens save for Thomas slamming his forehead into the table. Ms. Charles leans back. Tuppence sits back.

"We _didn't_ know that. Fuck, if we had…"

"So that's why you held up the store? Because you couldn't get a job?"

"How else were we gonna survive?" Tuppence says flatly. "Hell, if anyone had told us we could've just gone an' signed up…"

"So why'd you fight afterwards?"

"We were already criminals, weren't we? Couldn't make things much worse if we fought...and using our strength always felt good," Thomas says, lifting his head from the table. "Better than anything else in the world. Our dad, he used to take us out to a quarry when we needed to, we'd break up rock until we felt better. So when we got a chance to fight someone just as strong...hell, why wouldn't we? We didn't have a damn thing to lose."

Ms. Charles nods. "I can see that. You know, you're looking at life imprisonment."

"Not the death penalty?"

I hold out an arm, and a swarm drips out, forming a humanoid shape. Tuppence stands up fast, chair crashing to the ground.

" _Calm down, I'm just doing this so it pops up on audio,_ " the clone buzzes. " _To answer your question, Mr. Beresford, the death penalty doesn't apply to people who can't be given the needle or death by firing squad. So you got time in Belle Reve. Your defender even managed to argue some of the murder charges down to manslaughter, since it was fairly clear you weren't directly responsible for the deaths. Others still were murder charges...total, life in prison, and there's a possibility of parole after a while. This was made available to you...why didn't you check?"_

"I...didn't want to know. Thought it was us gettin' sent to the chair. Figured I'd work up the courage to look it up later." Tuppence, side-eyeing my swarm-clone, retakes her seat carefully.

" _Fair enough."_

"Alright. So, I'm right in asking, if you knew you had the chance to put your abilities to use, you wouldn't have turned to robbery?" Ms. Charles asks.

" _Fuck_ no. Hell, if we'd known we could've just walked right into an office and come out with a job that paid like that, why would've we bothered?" Thomas states, arms folded.

"I see. Anything else you want to say, before I wrap things up here?"

Thomas sighs. "Just...I'm sorry. I...I didn't want anyone to get hurt, and people got mixed into it, people who weren't s'posed to. That ain't right. I can't take it back, but I can at least apologize for it."

"Alright. This ends the interview of Thomas and Tuppence Beresford, three thirty pm, Wednesday, September fifteenth, year two thousand and ten."

 **4:31 PM EDT Wednesday, September 15th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"This is your personal library? It seems...small," Adolf says.

I chuckle. ++It is, but what I have is potent. There aren't many books on working with the Red directly- I've been improvising, working on conceptual spells. If healing you was just the goal, I could call on the Red's benediction and be reasonably certain you'd be returned to human...but that _isn't_ what I want to do. I want to improve you, and since we don't have to hide what you are from the Reach this time around…++

"It is simpler?"

++Got it in one. Still going to need time to work it out, weeks or months...but it's fairly simple to integrate animal abilities on a constant basis. It was the triggered transformations that were the hard part.++ I pick up an Atlantean tome borrowed via Kaldur. ++This should show plenty. Theories on the fish-graft Atlanteans, and this-++ -I add another, thicker volume ++-one on conventional biomancy. Then…++

I kneel down, rooting through the small shelf under my bed where I keep what I've collected. ++Hmm...no, no, don't need regrowth with other spells...spell interactions...no, can just force that...ah!++ I hold up a third, a heavily embossed book, thin and new. ++Tattoo designs for mystical channels. Should be an entry on the ones Kaldur has, showing how he keeps himself from getting shocked.++

Adolf adds it to the stack in his arms. "This is all?" he asks.

++Like I said, simple. Still going to need to practice on test animals beforehand...pigs would probably work. Don't want to mess you up more than you already are…++ I pause. ++You given any thought to what you'll do afterwards?++

"Some. Depending on the results...I doubt your League would accept me, and I do not believe I have the proper power or temperament to fight without lethal force. But Germany will likely welcome me into their armed forces. If my powers cannot be preserved...I believe I would like to work with the League in a civilian fashion. They must need some form of coordinator, and I am willing to learn."

++I hope this goes well, either way. And I'll put in a good word for you.++

"...thank you. Where should I put these?"

++Desk should do. I've got a lot of reading up. You set up alright?++

"Yes. It is...familiar, living in such a place. Underground, I mean. The actual Mountain I believe was destroyed, but I think your own lair had similar decor."

++Lair?++

"You described it as such when we met, and considering the giant insects and attack...lizard-bear... _things_ , it seemed fitting."

++Point. Huh. I got a lair. Interesting.++

 **5:02 PM CDT, Friday, September 17th, 2010**

 **Belle Reve**

++I honestly have to question if he realizes how utterly pointless this is,++ I observe serenely as my many, many eyes watch Mister Nigma struggle through the bayou. ++You know, I _could_ just let him keep going. He'll hit Swamp Thing's neck of the woods in a couple days if he keeps that heading and pace.++

Aqualad doesn't _quite_ sigh, but I can see his gills move as he suppresses the urge to do so. "Legion, stop playing with your food like a pet barracuda and capture him."

++ _Jawohl, mein fuhrer,_ ++ I say with a grin, before dissolving into the swarm.

I step out from behind a tree as insects swarm everywhere, blotting out what little sunlight filters through the canopy.

Nigma doesn't even flinch. "Nope."

++Excuse me?++

"Nope, nope, nope nope nope _nope._ Give me the cuffs, I'm going back."

++Usually people try to fight.++

"I saw you punch David Cain into a wall- great work on breaking his bones, made it much easier for the other guys to handle him. Riddle me this: what the hell could I possibly do to you with my bare hands?"

++Nothing?++

"Correct, my dear malicious mantidae."

++What was that about you 'handling' David Cain?++ I ask as I walk over and cuff Nigma's hands behind his back. Can't shake the oddly disappointed feeling...

"First thing Captain Cold did before the breakout started was to freeze his feet to the floor. Then the Rogues took turns. And Mammoth, too. We've got _standards_ , after all. And kids, some of us."

I wince. ++Ouch.++

"Yeah."

++You slip away while everyone was distracted with turning him into a corpsicle?++

"I plead the fifth."

++Uh-huh. Legion to Team: Nigma's in custody, where do you want him?++

++Robin here. We'll take him back. The main walls weren't breached, and repairs are already starting. Also, watch out for the bone knight. It's Miss Martian.++

++Finally solved the armor-for-shapeshifters problem, huh?++

++Yup!++ Miss Martian chirps happily. ++Saved my butt from Killer Frost when she tried to freeze me. Thanks.++

++What did I have to do with it?++

++Taking a look at your chitin gave me the idea,++ she says.

++Then you're welcome from the abhorrent abomination to arachnophobes anywhere,++ I say, mandibles twitching.

++Did you spend time practicing that?++ Artemis snarks.

++I most certainly did not. Yes. Definitely.++

++Legion, escort the Riddler to processing, then rendezvous with us. Superboy, how are you holding up?++

++Just bumps and bruises. I'll be fine.++

++Match?++

++There's a couple eyeing me, but the collars are back up and they don't look like they want to risk it.++

++Robin and Artemis?++

++Robin here. We've got the computer data and the backups. How long 'till the League gets here?++

And five, four, three, two-

++Aqualad to team, Flash just entered the area,++ I say, as a straight line of bugs I'd scattered on the road die near-instantly, the ones alongside them only registering a red blur.

++Should I link him up?++ Miss Martian asks.

++One moment.++ There's silence over the link, matched only by growing apprehension from the rest of the Team.

++Team, Cheshire and Sportsmaster are not present among the prison population.++

++ _Wonderful_ ,++ I respond flatly. ++Already on it, but…++

Nope. Nothing. Not a sign of their passing or anything the insects can find, and I've got enough to cover the whole area. ++If they didn't just teleport out, they're out of my range. Flash…?++

++He already checked,++ Robin says. ++No sign of them.++

++Damn. Well, one out of three isn't bad.++

++Dude, your 'one' is the Riddler,++ Kid Flash says. ++Not exactly a difficult target.++

++If he could hear you, I bet his feelings would be greatly hurt,++ I say with a grin. Mister Nigma flinches.

 **2:03 PM EDT, Saturday, September 18th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"Okay, I have three questions," Artemis says.

++Shoot,++ I say, as I plunk myself down at the Mountain's firing range.

"What the _hell_ is that thing, how are you allowed to have it, and how much are you compensating for by using it?"

++In order: Barrett XM500 with some extra modifications, superheroes are allowed to use just about everything and anything in their jobs under the Exceptional Abilities and Persons Act of 1937, and I have nothing to compensate for.++

"You are a horrible liar," she says, stringing an arrow to her bow. It thuds into the precise center of the target.

In response, I raise the Barrett into firing position, peering down the sight as I use bugs as rangefinders. Then I flick the safety to the added-on 'automatic' setting. ++You got ear protection?++

Artemis stares at the gun, then grabs earmuffs from their spot on the wall and slips them on.

 _Thoom-thoom-thoom-thoom-thoom-thoom-thoom_ _._

The target _disintegrates_ as three-quarters of the magazine of .50 caliber ammunition hurtle downrange and slam into it at what, for an AMR, is absurdly close range. I stop firing, safe the rifle, remove the magazine and work the bolt to eject the last round.

"Okay," Artemis says, slightly louder than usual. " _New_ question. Why are you using this?"

++Remember my discussion about guns? Still applies.++

"Even when you've got basically all the powers?"

++Huh?++

"Let's see...you're as strong as Wonder Woman, can fly, have insect control, and have magic which lets you make forcefields and do just about anything you can put up as an insect ability, _and_ you're a telepath, _and_ have claws that can cut through anything thanks to whatever you did with that evil future-Martian. Why do you _need_ a gun? Specifically, _that_ gun."

++Because a lot of the more potent mystical threats are not something I want to get in melee or soul-in-my-insects range of, Atlantean protective amulet or not. And .50 BMG is the _minimum_ for dealing with that level of threat, even with specialized ammunition. If it wouldn't cost me a decent chunk of everything I've ever earned, ever, and be stupidly non-applicable, I'd be hauling around something closer to a GAU-8.++

"The airplane-mounted, car-sized gatling gun?" She stares at me. "You're nuts."

++Paranoid. Not necessarily insane. Especially when they really are out to get you.++

She sighs, then stops. "Okay. You know what? We need to talk."

I put the oversized gun down, and face her, folding my arms. Finally, I get to figure out what the hell her problem with me is. ++About what?++

"How the heck are you so fucking crazy?" she nearly shouts, before pulling off her ear protection. "Just...how?"

++Still not sure what this is about.++

"You _ate_ people. The others might be wanting to forget that, but I won't. I saw what you did. And ever since then...just, fuck! You've been scaring everyone you fight for fun the entire time I've known you, and it's gotten worse since then." She stops, breathing heavily. "You don't make any damn sense," she says. "You're terrifying half the time and then the other half you go and do things like fixing Match or saving Cassie, or just deciding to take in that stranded German guy. Your first solution to every problem is to go full monster and yet you're basically a slightly less stupid _Wally_ whenever you open your mouth."

I raise an eye ridge. ++So your problem with me is that I'm inconsistent?++

Her eyes narrow. "No, it's….fuck, I hate this kind of stuff. But...argh!" She stops, then sighs. "Growing up with the kind of family I did...you learn to watch out for yourself. And I _can't fucking tell_ what you're going to do. Every damn time I'm near you I wonder if you're going to decide to scare the shit out of me for fun or if you're going to bake me a cake."

++I'm not that bad…++

"You were literally laughing more than the Joker when you were sparring with Match. And not in the 'I'm having fun' way, you were doing it in the 'I'm going to eat your skin' way. Just...fuck. Don't give me that look." She breathes in, out, in out. "I _get_ that you're at least trying to be a decent person. Trust me, I know about that. But you scare the shit out of me anyway. And it hasn't been helped by your transformation. I'm not trying to be a jerk, but it doesn't change that."

There's silence for a moment, then I make a flute noise. Artemis flinches.

++Okay. So I'm not quite normal. Fine. You going to help, or are you just going to keep hiding?++ I ask.

She doesn't snarl, but her expression tells me all I need to know as she turns and stalks out of the firing range. She stops just shy of the door. "What I said about my family? Tell anyone else, I _will_ hurt you," she says venomously. The door slams shut behind her.

Well, that went _wonderfully_.

 **3:36 PM EDT, Saturday, September 25th, 2010**

"You are…. _certain_ , this will work?" Adolf asks cautiously. "It seems rushed."

I shrug. ++As certain as I am about anything else. And it's sound. I got Zatara to ask around. While there aren't any living experts on Red magic, basic principles can always be applied. And, where that fails, I'll just make shit up. Now strip. The less dead cloth in the way the easier this is going to be to manage.++

Adolf pauses, then shrugs off his outsized coat and begins pulling off the armor. I hum to myself as I finish carving the last of the sigils I'll need into the paneling, then pause.

++Okay, this has been bugging me for weeks. You're native German, right?++

Yes, I am, Adolf says as the translator joins the armor.

++So why the _hell_ did your parents name you Adolf? Were they closet Nazi's or something?++

What is a Nazi? And what does it have to do with closets?

I blink slowly. ++How...bad was whatever it was that fucked up America?++

I believe between the aftereffects and resulting instability it virtually destroyed most of our informational records. Perhaps half the population of the world? What little we know of it comes...came?...from people like you who were immortal, and your kind were not particularly nostalgic. Or sane. Add in the destruction of the Martian invasion and Reach 'peacekeeping'...we did not have much left.

++Ohhhhkay. So no records of the Second World War?++

There was a second before the War of the Worlds? Does that make our war with the Martians World War Three?

++Alright. Yes, there was, it was the biggest war in history until the interplanetary curbstomp you guys suffered, and the main antagonist was Germany led by a man almost cartoonish in his degree of evil named Adolf Hitler.++

Was he simply demonized in historical record?

++No. Far worse. He led the Nationalist Socialist Party- Nazi Party, to most, and enacted a horrifyingly oppressive regime of racial enslavement and extermination. All told, he was responsible for the death of eleven million civilians whose only crime was to be the wrong ethnicity, sexual orientation, or race. That's not counting the millions who died over the course of the actual war, mind. He actively tried to exterminate a religious minority from the face of Europe.++

And I...share his name. Does Germany still remember this man? His voice is dead and flat.

++With burning hatred and great shame.++

I believe that after this I will have it legally changed then. This explains why you laughed for approximately five minutes when I first introduced myself, though.

I look up. He's down to his skivvies, and _wow_ that is a lot of scarring. ++Future me does shit work,++ I mutter. ++You do realize all those implants are probably going to be gone?++

They are hunks of metal. I will be _glad_ to be rid of them.

++Fine. Sit in the center of the circle, please.++

He does so, and I move his clothes off to the side.

One exsanguinated pig carcass later, the room smells like iron and the sigils edging the circle are filled in with blood.

Is the blood entirely necessary?

++It's magic, I don't have to explain shit,++ I say flatly. ++No shut up. This is not going to be pleasant.++

I press my hands into the largest sigil, reaching out to the Red. The sigils _flare_ as I stare into the structure of his body.

What do you mean it- _AAAAAAAAAAHHHH-_

The transplanted Burner organ writhes as the spellwork around it activates, effects speeding through the body like a wildfire. New organs spontaneously generate, stores of electrolytes far greater in potence than normal, enhanced by Red magic and the raw essence of the creature they imitate. Structure gives way to function and to the ideal form, imitating the shock without the necessary sacrifices. But it's incomplete.

- _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH-_

Not enough power to engage secondary attributes, only enough feeding from the man's soul and the ambient magic of the world to give him the primary abilities of the eel he mimics. Insufficient. Useless. _Boring._

First, the old scarring and injuries. Metal clangs to the ground as bone and flesh bubble and shift and sprout anew, replacing his lower mandible and healing accumulated damage to skin and muscle and fat. The screaming continues and it is _irrelevant._

A complete change will be needed.

How? Howhowhowhow _how_. Hrrm.

There. Transitioning is not needed if the form is correct and primary human functioning is uninhibited. Without need for camouflage and deception power can be conserved. Permanency of direct mimicry would have adverse effects. A deeper change is needed.

The Martian organ- unneeded, inhuman, not _ours_ \- melts into the body, raw cellular material cannibalized and converted to metahuman tissues. Mutation ripples through nuclei and ribosomes, shifts in proteins and cells as optimized organs are created instead, hidden away instead of occupying the majority of the body. What is lacked in size is made up for in _potency_ , raw power drawing on the Red to generate what is its birthright. Small ones near the spine, a _slight_ tweak to the brain to allow control, mimicking alternate structures drawn from metahuman elementals. Healhealheal old damage and fix up telomeres and chromosomes from free radicals- flying free, oh so free, hahaha- erase all but the faintest memory-traces of scars and injury again. Go deeper, link his soul into that portion of our world that is occupied by _Electrophorus_ the lightning fish, tie it in and dot the t's and cross the i's, and-

 _Hrrrghufrgl._

It takes a lot of effort to raise my head from my prone position. But it's worth it to see the grin on the rejuvenated man's rebuilt face, and the grin that is no longer nightmarish.

And the streams of electricity falling through his fingers, dancing over his skin but never touching him.

It worked.

I'm going to pass out now.

###

 **Red**

They'd come with steel and frozen movements, fire and water and shrieking sound. They'd hit the Team hard, catching most unawares and trapping them against molten rock and metal, fire around M'gann and Kaldur, Elias and Wallace stunned by noise and glowing rock and restrained.

Mister Legion and Mister Reinhardt and Match were gone, so were Artemis and Robin, all of them out of the Mountain. That meant reinforcements would arrive.

Old training she hated, basics of action and reaction and tactics. First, her position. Air ducts had proven useful, they hadn't found her and didn't want to go looking. Maybe they didn't regard her as a threat.

Stupid robots, then. She'd hidden herself above the big cave, peering through a vent at the scene. Watching.

Second, enemy force. Four of them, robots like Mr. Tornado, red with yellow stripes and dots and bits and bobs of color. Red eyes. Red movements, what little they made, promising pain and blood. One made flames, one hurled water, another shrieked _noise_ even more than Wallace, and a fourth twisted metal in the air with ease. Nothing she could fight...and maybe it was a bad idea to be standing in the metal duct, but she couldn't move without risking noise and alerting them, now.

Third, weapons. She had nothing save her hands, and she knew that wouldn't do a thing against metal. So she watched, helpless.

The tube made it's naming-noises and began to glow, and the four robots turned.

++[Query- _alarm!]_ ++

Legion's mind rang with adrenaline as he threw himself flat, fire screeching through the air. Match took the blast full in the chest, stepping back with a grunt as the flames ate through his clothing, but shielding Mister Reinhardt from the heat as he recovered. Legion dissolved into a swarm, obscuring the tube from sight for precious moments, but not enough for Cassie to miss Mister Reinhardt hurling himself away from the kill-box, lightning crackling in his fingers but earthing itself in the metal that rippled up out of the Cave walls.

Legion appeared out of the swarm again as Match's eyes swept a deadly laser gaze at Fire, rifle in his hands. Fire nipped at him, shrieks and screams chased him, but every attack hit nothing but insects as he fell apart to dodge and attack again. Why? His movements screamed fear and apprehension, but she knew him better, knew he could take it. Why wasn't he fighting closer in, ignoring their inability to actually hurt him to do some real damage?

Then she realized why, as Mister Reinhardt made his way past the robots and into the halls, vanishing beneath her sight.

He was distracting them until the squishy people got out of the way.

The big gun _boomed_ , and the water-robot staggered back as the top of its head vanished. Metal was brawling with Match, armor against clone-flesh. Fire and sound were back to back, unable to see in the swarm that was growing to fill the upper levels of the Cave. Legion bulled into them, discarding gun for talon in movements that sang _rage._ Fire fell back with rent shell and sparking body, but Sound slammed his hands into the earth, cracking it with a scream that shook Cassie in her hiding place. Legion dissolved away again, bugs swarming ever thicker despite the blasts of flame. Fire went down to hands and knees, gutted already.

Another blast of the gun, and she crumpled. Sound moved fast, and _noise_ shredded the rifle, but Legion was already moving, drawing his sword. It severed Sound's upraised arm before the bot kicked him in the gut and sent him flying. He dissolved back into insects once again, swarming around even as blasts of noise shredded the surrounding swarm.

And then precipitated out of the air, frozen.

++[Shock, alarm]++

Match went flying through the air, slamming into Legion as he stood there, hurling them both into the wall.

Sound _shrieked_ and they both writhed.

No no no no no no no….

Why? Why why why?

Match _screamed_ , and the swarm began to fall from the air as Legion's chitin cracked.

No! They were supposed to be winning! They were the good guys! They-

They should have been saving her.

 _Destination._

The world became _noise._

 **Green**

Garfield eyed the hive carefully.

Legion had left a half-dozen of the things behind, and he still wasn't sure what they did. They definitely weren't normal beehives, that was pretty easy to tell. Normal hives didn't form perfect hexagon-shaped towers, and they definitely didn't pulse with Red light. And he was pretty sure bees weren't supposed to glow like that either. Or have stingers that big.

Still, he knew they weren't going to do anything. They only attacked Bialyans. They'd tried to send another patrol, and the _bees_ had stopped the tanks dead and assaulted anyone who tried to push forward. But anyone who wasn't Bialyan was fine. Some Quracis had stopped by and they hadn't been bothered at all, same with a few men in suits Mom said were in charge of money. There'd been a lot of phone calls but he'd been told not to worry.

He'd started looking into magic in that time. If Legion could make that happen in a few minutes and a bit of magic, he wanted to see what _he_ could do. The Internet hadn't helped, nothing had helped, not even a spark of power…

Then the ideas had started coming, clever ones, good ones. Ways to weight and rebuild and change the animals. He looked at one of the wildebeest, and he saw ways to make it _better_ , more….wildebeest-y, to turn it into something he knew could fight the Bialyans anyway if he could only find the materials and the time where Mom couldn't see.

Hadn't stopped him from gutting one of their old radios up in the attic and using it to build a control broadcaster that worked on animals. Parts of him whispered of implantation and ways to make it concealed and efficient, but all of that took time and...well, he didn't think Mom would listen if she found him cutting himself open to fit it into his brain, even if it was just to make him better.

Then he remembered the hives. Nobody would mind if he made those better, right? Heck, if he made them better Legion could only approve! Then he might tell him if he was doing magic wrong, or what he was getting wrong, and then…

He grinned at the thought of adding magic to the designs in his head, and crept closer to the nest, box in hand. The bees were the size of his fist, near enough. Take one, see how it worked, make it _better_ and change the rest to be the same way. Instead of just normal, if large and angry-looking, bees, he'd make ones that were heavily optimized and able to burrow _through_ those tanks the Bialyans loved so much. He'd show them, he'd show them all!

No more cartoons, he noted mentally as he walked closer. He tapped into the instincts of the bees, smiling as his power fed him ideas, and ordered a few to enter the shoebox. They resisted for a moment, then followed his commands, nestling in quietly. Perfect. Now he could start-

Something thunked into the ground, and he started before moving around the hive. A...flare? Burning and giving off red smoke? Why?

Something thundered in the distance, and then there was _pain._

 **Blacklight**

It was dark, but that didn't matter much to him. Not anymore.

 _I can't believe you were that reckless._

No. Ignoring those words was the best possible thing, right now.

He kept walking, hoodie drawn up around his head, trying to ignore the memories flickering through his mind, trying to banish what he'd learned.

 _Reckless? It was the first step towards_ free energy, _Eli! The first possibilities of being able to fuel the world for nothing!_

He wasn't all that worried about being mugged, even in D.C. at night. For one, he didn't have anything worth stealing on him.

For another, the last person to try had run screaming the moment his claws had come out.

 _And 'free energy' means sticking out a beacon for whatever worlds are out there! You were waving shark chum in the ocean, Silas!_ _Reckless, stupid, dangerous! Just like what you did with Victor!_

A scream ripped through the air, and he looked up. Then he broke into a run.

Biomass shunted itself into his legs, red-veined black flesh replacing the cloth of his jeans and bulking outwards. Armor followed, hardened plates of biomass covering him.

 _And it worked, Eli! It made him smarter. Our boy's a genius, and my work made him that way!_

There had been shock and pain at that statement, old memories of IQ tests and needles, things from that half-hazy age when he'd barely been able to walk. Things he'd never thought too deeply about, but now had to doubt.

And then…

 _Destination._

There had been clarity, the knowledge that he _wasn't_ their experiment, their test-tube child. That he could be someone else. Some _thing_ else.

Victor Stone hadn't gone back home since that day, spending his days on his campus, eating off a meal plan, ignoring every attempt his parents made to get in contact. And after that, DC had become a much less safe place for the petty sort of criminal.

He had power, now, enough to put some things right.

The two men had dragged the man and his female companion into an alley at knifepoint. Victor's eyes pierced through the night with ease, picking them out. A large, wicked knife and a snub-nosed pistol. Not enough to even hope to stop him.

He barreled into the gunman, claws snagging him by his baggy hoodie and slamming him into the wall, cracking the brick. Everyone who hadn't had the breath just driven from their lungs started screaming as adrenaline hit him like a load of bricks and time crawled to a halt. Gun down, and- his hand shot out, lengthening to pluck the revolver from the unconscious man's grasp and crush it- destroyed. Knife man was packing away oh-so-slowly, dawning horror written on every feature. He grinned at the expression, exposing teeth he knew were more like sharpened splinters of bone in this form than actual dentition. His hands grabbed at the other's arm, and he slammed into the wall beside his fellow, slumping down just as fast.

Time snapped back into its proper place, and he barely kept himself from staggering, before closing the false mouth of his armor and nodding to the clearly frightened couple. "Go home," he said, altering his voice to be higher than his normal tones. The man backed up, but the woman simply nodded quietly.

Victor ran off into the night.

He'd clean up this city, as best he could, learn everything he could about his powers, get himself a name and a reputation…

And once that was done, he was going to find Legion, and punch the bastard in the face.

 **The Grey**

She'd thought things would start to make sense. The interview she'd managed to squeeze out of Legion had been more than enough to get her to start digging, finding out why most people with powers didn't just put them to useful work.

It was funny. She'd been half-thinking she'd have to do something like buy powers herself- some people said stuff like Tar granted superhuman strength- but all it took was a chance encounter with the world's largest praying mantis and a bit of ambition and she had all she needed to prove that people, given the chance, would use their powers for profit.

It still didn't make sense that nobody had tried to found a company based around powers. Sure, STAR Labs had their testing and experiments, and a few corporations like LexCorp came out with interesting things, but there weren't...super-strength temp agencies, or biomancers selling cloned organs, or whoever made Red Tornado making more. There weren't even _spaceships._

So it still didn't make sense. Maybe it was how it worked? She'd see if she could talk with the Green Lantern- the old one who worked with the All-Star Squadron- and ask him what he thought. Superheroes had been around that long, he might have been thinking the same thoughts she did.

LaTonya slumped back in her chair, rubbing her temples. All this thinking was giving her a headache. When those weren't around, she was _on fire_ , figuring out socio-economic problems and factors, weighing and balancing a hundred little pressures that made modern markets what they were, knowing instinctively what things were needed where, seeing social groups and thoughts and exchanges of the data that made civilization workable...but then the headaches arrived as her brain decided she'd had more than enough information for the day, skull-splitting pain. She sighed, and pushed back, getting out of her chair. Her dorm room was half-buried in paper, now, old printouts of a thousand different sources she used to back up her claims, handwritten notes, and photos by the dozen.

The thickest folder sat on top of one stack. Her own personal project, now.

If people weren't going to invest, give people the chance to put their powers to use and causing them to turn to crime out of desperation or simple injured pride…

Well, she'd been making a killing on the stock market lately. If capitalism was going to fail her now, she'd simply take the advantage.

 **Clear**

The King of Fins stared at Socks.

Socks stared back.

"So…." the King began.

"Yes."

"This happened."

[APOLOGY], the avatar said.

"No, no, it's interesting, just….hmmph. How did you…?"

[CONJOINED]

"And….why?"

[NECESSITY][URGENCY][PREPARATION]

"Preparing? You... _welded_ our realms together, to 'prepare'? How did you even- no, no, that should not be asked. But _what_ requires our realms to be forced into one, against both our wills?"

[COOPERATION][MENDING]. The avatar stopped, and its stolen eyes blazed.

[HELLFIRE].

###

 **8:03 PM CET, Tuesday, September 28th, 2010**

 **Berlin**

++So, what do you think of not-currently-rubble Germany?++ I ask the newly christened Rudolf. I hadn't had the heart to tell him about the reindeer.

Rudolf shrugs. It was...interesting, he says. A lot more people than I expected, but I believe I can adapt.

I liked it, Match says, speaking flawless German. I have no idea where he learned it, but I have to assume the G-Gnomes did it. People seemed...nice.

++I'm sure that's because I'm terrifying,++ I say as the zeta tube whirrs to life. ++People are usually bastards, it's just that now they're too scared to do so to your face.++

You're being very pessimistic, Rudolf says. People are not that awful, and I have over a decade more life experience than you.

++Yeah, yeah.++

" _Recognized: Legion, B07, Match, B08, Wandersturm, A05."_

 **2:04 PM EDT**

 **Mount Justice**

++Hey guys, what's- _oh cuntbiscuits._ ++

Flames rip through the air as I instinctively throw myself flat, mind reaching out. Alarm and fear from my team mates, nothing from the robots, and a brief flicker of surprise up in the air ducts. Cassie. I shut it back out, leaving only the ones who can fight in the network.

++Wander, we'll cover you!++ I shout, _pushing_ the accumulated swarm out of myself and filling the air with insects. Up in the Mountain armories, insects push themselves through cracks and crevices, trying to collect enough to form a body. I let my body near the tubes fall apart, _all_ my insects spreading and obscuring vision. Match has taken the worst of the blast, clothing damaged but his skin unharmed. ++Rudolf, you know where the comm station is?++ I ask as he tries to hurl a bolt only for it to divert itself to metal spikes pulling themselves out of the ground.

++Yes,++ he grunts, throwing himself to the side as a retaliatory spike of _noise_ rips into the swarm inches from him.

++Good. I'll cover you. Match, handle the fiery one.++

++On it.++

Heat vision lances through my cloud as fireflies provide targeting data, and in that moment there are enough bugs to form a body. I coalesce in the armory, grab my Barret, load and unsafe it, and appear next to Red Jalapeno, who immediately sends a blast of fire my way. I collapse again, reform, and have to dodge a sonic burst from another robot. Elemental ones?

Again and again I reform, dodging everything they throw at me, diverting their attention. One of the bots, a big one, has been going up against Match, the two stalemated. When I reform opposite the doors, and my swarm fills the air, Rudolf makes a break for it. One of the guy-bots almost turns to go after him, water starting to stream up, and I fire. The round takes off the robot's head, and it staggers back before collapsing while I dodge another blast of flame.

++I'm clear. Heading for the comms room now.++

I grin, and launch myself forward, calling on that half-instinctual ability I'd stolen from the Burner to make my claws horrendously lethal, ripping into Jalapeno. No need for the Barrett now, it falls away into the swarm. Then that _damn Soundwave knockoff_ lets loose with a massive shriek, knocking me off balance and letting her get away. I pull back and reform, Barrett in hand again. Not getting away this time, bitch. Another _thoom_ , and the damaged bot collapses as the bullet enters a gash in the armor and tears into something vital. I grin wider and spin to shoot at Not-Soundwave, but he fires again and the gun is torn apart, shrapnel breaking against me.

Well fuck you too buddy.

I charge forward, _jian_ pulling itself from the swarm into my hands, and the x-ionized blade parts armor plating like water, cutting off the sonic-bot's arm at the elbow. Doesn't stop him from kicking me hard enough to send me flying. I melt back into myself with a snarl, waiting for an open-

 _FEAR, FIRE, FOES!Burningburningburning-_

Gah!

Wait, when did I reform-

 _Match!_

Oww….

I lean forward, shoving two hundred odd pounds of comatose Kryptonian off of me-

And then the world turned into pain.

Fucking _sonic weapons._ I push through it, even as pain rips through me and my carapace threatens to crack under the vibration. Match _screams_ as blood begins to leak from his ears, thrashing on top of me. An elbow slams into my chin, and the world goes starry.

 _-there was only one, a shattered woman against a shattered god, and yet there were many. The swarm was all, one and many at once. Worlds shattered at the force of their confrontation, and worlds were born anew from the countless paths that could have led to it. The shattered god was struck down, the woman struck down in turn._

 _And that which animated the woman saw the truth of things._

 **?**

 **Presumably still the Mountain**

Urrrrgh.

"Well, he's finally awake."

Ow. Light is not my friend. I dissolve away and reform, and it returns to a tolerable level. ++How long?++ I ask, sweeping my eyes over the Cave. Elias and Wallace are free from their metal prison, Kaldur and M'gann are out of their fiery cage, the Sphere is mobile. And Cassie...Cassie is smiling as the air in her hands ripples and warps to a high-pitched humming, new, batlike ears flicking and turning on the sides of her heads to the sound.

Deal with that later. Move now.

"About ten minutes" Elias says.

Long. Too long.

++Where's Match? And Rudolf.++

"Over here."

I turn. Match isn't in good shape, bleeding from the ears. He's slumped against the wall, but he gives me a wave.

Nope, not letting that slide. Benediction for you, clone-boy. Red light flares, and he winces as the blood vanishes. New clothes appear as the swarm blankets him for a moment. "Guh. Okay, that's better."

++Good. We're going to Qurac.++

"Wait, what-"

I grab the strands connecting _me_ to the traces of the hives, deep where nothing could reach, and _pull._

 **Still no idea**

 **Logan Animal Sanctuary**

We come to rest in a crater. I can smell burnt grass, and see the smoke.

"Legion, dude, what the-" Wallace cuts off as he notices the damage. "Oh. Oh damn. I'll find-"

"Only one," Cassie says, eyes slightly vacant as her ears twitch. "Trying...that way." She points, and I nod. A moment's disorientation, and I'm at the ruined house, shoving open the unlocked door.

" _No no no no...come on!"_

Garth's voice, high-pitched and pleading, ragged with pain. I can see traces of blood on the floor and walls, shrapnel holes in some places. I break into a run.

Worst of the blood's here, in the kitchen, part of the roof collapsed inwards and wooden splinters the size of my thumb _everywhere_. And the crumpled shape of Marie Logan on the floor, Garfield trying desperately to revive her despite there being one of those splinters in her throat and another in her eye.

++Garfield.++

"No, why isn't it working _whywhywhy!_ " Garfield shouts, hurling what looks like a car battery away from him with a snarl. "Come on. Jugular, carotid, reroute reroute reroute, I can do this, I can-"

I kneel down across from him. He doesn't even notice.

Nothing. Not a spark.

++Gar. She's gone.++

"No! I can fix her, get blood flowing, fix her brain, I know I can, I-"

++Garfield. Look at me.++

He stops, staring up at me. I can see burns and cuts on the side of his face. Then he crumples, and the tears start flowing.

He's eight, isn't he? What was he trying to do?

No. Immaterial, right now. I put a hand on the boy's shoulder. Red light flows. Slight burns, mild concussion, and a slight...very slight, shift in genetic structure. A Meta-Gene. Active, now...I stare at the car battery he'd thrown away, take note of the tools scattered among the splinters…

No. Later. Deal with it later.

I lead him out of the house, seeing the Team already assembled out there. I meet Kaldur's eyes, and shake my head slowly before pulling off my coat and putting it around Garfield's shoulders. He clutches the red fabric close, shrinking in on himself, but Cassie walks up and sits next to him on the porch.

I leave them be.

++Bialya did this. We all understand that, right?++ I ask, as I fall in behind Kaldur. He nods slowly, and my staff enters my hands in a swirl of chitin and wings. ++Then I know what I'm going to do,++ I say calmly.

"Legion," Kaldur says, voice thick with exhaustion and dehydration. "We are _not_ ready to fight. The Bialyans are gone. We need to rest and recover. And…" He casts an eye at the two. "Keep an eye on the children. Both of them."

It grates at me, but I nod slowly. ++Fine. I'll put us back.++

 **8:09 PM EDT, Tuesday, September 28th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

The League has come and gone, clearing out the debris of the robots and the battle, making repairs to the Cave. Robin and Artemis have come in at some point, but I barely notice it. Rudolf's wandered off as well, Match and Elias are somewhere in their shared room, the others are with their families. Diana's watching Garfield and Cass for the moment, keeping her adopted child close. Garth's on the other couch, using my coat as a pillow, hands cradling a collar I hadn't noticed he'd had until we'd come back.

He's barely said a word, still in shock from what's happened. It seems I'm two for two on collecting traumatized children. Yay me.

I _let go_ of the insects in the Mountain, all of them, even the weavers and the ones in the spell circles, and prop my staff in the corner of my room. Then I sit in the center of the bed.

I am dissolute, many and one. I let my body fall away, the swarm replacing it. I accept the fracturing, the scattered viewpoints. I am calm, many and one, at peace despite the violation.

I am of the Red.

 **After and yet Preceding**

 **Everywhere and yet Nowhere**

"Alright, alright, hold yer horses, I'm listening."

My eyes flick open. Field of bloody gore? Check. Human appearance? Check.

Giant faun-creature carrying a huge staff? Unexpected, but also check.

I smile. "And you'd be?"

"Shepherd. I'm guessin' you're the young'un who's been causin' so much trouble for us? Granted, there aren't much, so there's a lot of trouble spread 'twixt a few, but your old friend Administrator weldin' us to tha Clear's been makin' headaches for old Socks, so it has."

Bwuh.

"Okay, setting aside what I was going to ask for for a second. _Welding the Clear to the Red? What._ "

"Well, more she linked it all together, and the realms did the rest," the giant says, waving a hand vaguely. "Said she needed to do it sooner than later. Ol' King of Fins wasn't too happy 'bout that, let me tell you. But enough 'bout old Shepherd's troubles. What ails ya, boy?"

I don't quite growl, but it's close enough. "I've been attacked twice, people I care about hurt. Killed. I don't intend to let it happen again. But if I want to do that...I need power. I need range. I can't fight an army as I am, and I'm too inhuman to get close to the bitch without having to fight that army."

"Ya could wait. Ya should be workin' on that last bit, too."

"Wait? You turn to the Green, Shepherd?" I ask, stepping forward. I don't care that he's big enough to crush me underfoot. "I'm not waiting. That which is _mine_ was razed at the whim of a damned dictator, and I'll be dragged into Hell myself before I let her get away with that. No quarter, no mercy, none given or taken." I grin, and even looking human as I am, it contains far too many and far too sharp teeth. "I'll do what I have to do, Shepherd, and I'll still call on the Red to do it, your help or no."

"Yer being rash, boy, and rude too. Can't say I blame ya, seeing if what your shard told us is true. Some of your friends, she's given gifts to as well. Why don't we have a chat with her instead."

Wait, what?

The Red _ripples_ , and just like that the form of Taylor Hebert stands in front of me. "Greetings," she says. I raise an eyebrow.

"Finally deeming us worthy of actual speech?" I ask. The avatar cocks its head, then makes a vague motion with the Red-threaded arm that's replaced the missing one.

"Learning. Language is...unusual. Con-tra-dic-tory."

"Uh-huh. Now."

Chains fly from my hand, wrapping around her as half-a-dozen blank-eyed men in blood-colored uniforms form from the muck under her feet and grab her legs. "What was that about handing out shards, _Administrator?_ " I ask flatly. She doesn't react to her bindings, simply tilting her head slightly. Then she _smiles_.

"Information, freely given, and now there are...many of me, where there was one."

"So they're second-gen, then," I say quietly. "Why'd you do it? It's risking a lot, and I'm not partial to having everyone getting their own little brain parasite driving them towards aggression and destruction."

She frowns. "No, no. Not father's way, not mother's way. _Our_ way. We build. Exaltation. Survival." She pauses, then nods as much as the binding chains will let her. "Symbiosis," she says definitely.

"And I should trust you...why? You can say it here, but that means you can lie. I-"

[EXALTATION]

Gah!

"Mother _fucker_ ," I hiss, grabbing my temples. "Fine. So it's you and wherever you throw yourself about, isn't it? Who've you decided to give them to? The Team?"

"No. Four. Child, granted sound and a voice. Another, given friends and defenses. A third able to change from what his sires made him. A fourth given a lever to move the world."

Cassie. Garfield. Who else? Who-

Victor, probably, if what I remember about his backstory is true. That makes the fourth...LaTonya? Huh. Wait.

"I checked Garfield. No gemma or corona. Just a...Meta-Gene...oh fuck me, you can hide in that now, can't you?"

She smiles. "Yes. No need for conflict. Happens anyway. Divided...no limits. Enough time to solve everything."

"So you're saying you're still friendly even if you're reproducing like a rodent. You do realize I'm not going to believe you?"

She shrugs slightly, the chains not inconveniencing her in the slightest. "Believe or not. Still true. We help anyway. Not like father or mother. Or cousins, either."

Palm meets forehead. The headache is going to just get worse. "Fuck it, I have no time for this. Tumnus the Greater, can you-"

He's gone.

"For fucks sake."

"What is it you intend?" Administrator asks carefully. I breathe in. Out. Calm.

"Queen Bee decided to attack me. So did some robots, but I don't know who sent those. I know where _she_ is, what she's done to me and mine."

"You will kill her."

"Maybe. Still thinking of the ways. Need power for that, though."

"Then you'll have it," a new voice says behind me. I whirl.

"Oh, it's you," I tell the cat. It looks slightly miffed. "Typically, there are more awed reactions," Socks says.

"You are a foot-high feline. Even if you're part of the Parliament, you aren't scary. Giant Doug Jones on the other hand has some worrisome qualities," I say calmly.

"Fine. So, you want the power to quell her armies? And your old appearance back? I think that can be done. You've rendered us quite a lot of good service. And your shard as well."

I look back, and the pile of chains and soldiers is missing its captive. "Huh. Should've expected that," I muse serenely. "So, what happens now?"

"Now I do my part, and you go do yours."

My eyes snap open, and I fall into the bed, rolling back and- hands! I have hands! Normal, fleshy ones…

Wait. When did I get gloves with that kind of symbol on them? Oh, Alucard. Fuck you, subconscious, and your anime obsessions as well.

Still. Human appearance, check. Power? A moment's thought, and the insects throughout the Mountain respond to my call, weavers returning to their work and others resuming their posts throughout our fortress. A bit of effort- and I can feel thousands more, reaching farther than I ever have.

I grin in the darkness of my room. Reminds me of a song...

 _I send the locusts on a wind  
Such as the world has never seen  
On ev'ry leaf, on ev'ry stalk  
Until there's nothing left of green  
I send my scourge, I send my sword._

It'll do.


	5. Arc Five: Decimation

This is the last of the complete arcs. The three chapters of the in-progress arc shall be posted individually.

 **6:03 AM EDT, Wednesday, September 28th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"Hey guys."

"Hey Grant, what's-" Elias's mug thunks on the countertop, spilling coffee everywhere as he leaps up.

Okay, apparently I still have super strength and durability, because I'm pretty sure my ribs shouldn't be surviving the hug he's giving me. "O...kay," I say, patting him on the back. "Miiight want to let me go before M'gann starts getting ideas, buddy," I say with a smile. He practically drops me. I smile at the others. "So, yeah, last night I basically performed the metaphysical equivalent of poking a bear with a stick, and got the Red to finally answer me."

I feel something probing at my mind. M'gann, I realize a moment later. I let her in, and she stumbles before staring at me with wide eyes.

++What did you _do?_ ++ she asks. I grin.

++It's not what I did, but what I'm going to do,++ I say. I look over the Team, those who're still here. Match and Elias, M'gann and Kaldur, Cassie and Garfield. "I'm going to go walkabouts for a while," I say carefully. "So if Batman calls for a mission, tell him that."

"Wait, where-"

Threads of life in the desert, meagre but there, and close enough to the livings networks of human activity and to my hives for me to be certain of the location. Grab and pull.

 **2:06 PM EDT, Wednesday, September 28th, 2010**

 **Bialya**

This is probably going to burn a lot of bridges, perhaps for good. Oh, well. It's not like I need anything, not even food or sleep the way I am. The sigils on the backs of my fingerless gloves burn brightly as I smile to myself.

A moment's exertion of will, and the desert _pulses_ as countless miles of it are disturbed by an eruption of insect life. No locusts flying, not yet. The swarm pauses, then, as one it moves to the east, coalescing as it does so. Farmers and the few nomads who make their homes run for shelter, but I leave them be. This isn't about inflicting devastation, or killing innocents because their ruler is an ass.

No, this is about sending a very specific message.

Three miles to the east a Bialyan military base is panicking as insects block the entrances, clog their weapons, and generally raise hell. No fatalities. Not yet. A moment, and I'm in their headquarters. Unit patches are correct.

Two men, weapons unaffected, open fire. Bullets hit their targets, and my human body jerks and judders as 7.62mm rounds rip into it. Then it straightens, holes closing, and I grin.

"You'll do."

A blur of motion, and I'm on them. The one on the left is smashed to the ground by my staff as I grab the other by the neck in my left hand. Let's see what your brain's like, mate.

Structures and neurotransmitters flicker and fade in my understanding, as I look for the elusive traces of chemical cocktail that mean _her_ presence and domination. I find nothing, not a trace.

Heh. Figures.

I let the man drop as my insects sweep the base. _Someone_ has to have been enthralled here. A man in officer uniform covered in medals? Insects flicker over his skin, but there's nothing. Another, and another, and another, and _none_ of them-

There.

The office I pour into is richly appointed for a military installation. The man sitting at his desk, on the other hand, fits in with the concrete walls better than he does the hardwood shelves and plush carpeting. He doesn't flinch in the slightest, even as I reach into his mind and _take_ the knowledge of Arabic I need. Lieutenant Colonel Mamum Zakariyya Al-Amin, I state flatly. You fired on the Logan Animal Sanctuary yesterday, did you not?

He nods, completely at ease despite the screams echoing from outside the walls. Still no fatalities, but the two who attempted to drive a jeep through the swarm and ran into the walls are going to be in a hospital for weeks. I set fireflies to lead a path for some others.

As the Queen commanded, I did so. It was not my place to question it.

I want to hate him. But I can see into his brain and his mind, read through the decisions influenced by the pheromone cloud.

No. He doesn't deserve this. Did your subordinates know what they were firing upon?

I was instructed to inform them their target was being used for activity hostile to Bialyan interests.

You killed a mother and nearly killed a child, I tell him.

That...the Queen commanded it. She must have had a reason.

She did, you old fool. Just not a good one. Reach into those structures, isolate the pheromones, and _purge._

He sags as clarity hits him. Oh God...what...we… He stops. I killed…

Hardly. She did. Not you.

He swallows slowly. The orders were written by my hand. Her power or not...what of the child? Does he still live?

I think of Garfield for half a second, remembering the fear in his eyes. He's being cared for.

That is...good. Is that why you are here? To take vengeance?

I tilt my head slightly. I see nothing here that needs it. But I had to be certain. There will be changes in Bialya by the end of the day. Be prepared.

An order, and the swarm pulls away from the base as I dissolve back into it.

I wanted revenge...but I won't find it _here._ Oh, well. Move on, and finish what needs finishing.

The swarm moves on. Al-Qawiya is quite a ways from here, after all, and I'll need to move.

 **6:04 PM EEST, Wednesday, September 28th, 2010**

 **Al-Qawiya Outskirts**

I'll give him this. It only took him four hours to realize where I was headed and to find me in the center of the swarm. Helped, I think, by the way the clouds of insects parted before him.

He's glaring at me. I think it's because I'm sitting on a rock and ignoring him as my swarm does the work.

"Legion."

"Kal-El." He doesn't quite flinch at my casual use of his Kryptonian name, but I see the intake of breath anyway. He wouldn't have been surprised if he'd bothered to talk to Elias.

"You need to stand down. Whatever it is you're planning on doing, this isn't the right way."

"Really? Because I quite like it."

"Half the world's in a panic. What you're doing...it's shown up on satellites. I think Batman's had to talk down Israel from using a nuke on you if you turn in their direction."

Hmm. Understandable. My range is big enough to encompass the entirety of Al-Qawiya, and it's only growing. Traffic's come to a halt, most people too afraid to venture outside. But in the city center, which I've left alone...yes, there she is. I stand.

"Legion. Don't do this."

"Don't do what, exactly?"

"I know you were close to the Logans. But killing Queen Bee in revenge won't solve anything."

"Oh. Honestly, did you think so little of me, think I'd go that low?"

He looks relieved.

"For all intents and purposes, I killed her ten minutes ago."

By the time I can see him look angry, I've reached into his mind, projecting what my swarm sees of the central plaza, where she's trying to calm her people. Being a figurehead ruler and giving an inspiring speech.

++You know, when you have power, it makes things so much easier,++ I say. Mental barriers come into place, trying to force me out, but I am _many_ and they are shoved aside with ease. His mind protests and I ensure he can't say a word. ++For her, her power was control. The kind that ensures every man wants to bed her, Kal-El. It was so easy for her to give into temptation when she had that kind of power. Any man she wanted, all she had to do was be in the same room and they were _hers._ Even married men were hers, the fact of their marriages shoved aside. They were her personal guards, her possessions, and they loved her more than their own families.++

She's standing on a podium now, her escort of Desert Lions arrayed around her.

++Ten minutes. All I needed was to touch a gnat to her skin. And now? Now that power's gone. And her guards? They don't love her, and they remember what she did to them.++

The Bialyan soldier behind her staggers for a moment as a fly touches him and the last traces of her presence are purged. Then his face twists into hate and he snaps his rifle up.

He gets three shots off before his fellows tackle him, but they're enough, ripping through the Queen's back and erupting out, spraying blood.

And just like that, the swarm pulls away. I pull away too, letting go of the mind of the Man of Steel. "It's done, now," I say quietly. "Scales are balanced. Goodbye, Kal-El."

A breath, a thought, and a pull upon the threads of life, and I'm gone.

###

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Topic: Bialyan Swarm  
In: Boards ► Metahuman Tracking ► Confirmed Activity  
MiddleEastReport (Original Poster) (Moderator) (Newsbot)  
Posted On Sep 28th 2010:  
Original Information from AccessGranted, AlAmid621, and others.

An immense cloud of insects has appeared in Bialya in the Middle East, according to news reports.  
Yeah, this is definitely a metahuman thing. Someone *cough Queen Bee cough* has managed to piss off a bug controller. Oh the irony.  
Thus far the cloud has been moving towards Bialya's capitol Al-Qawiya. Stay safe, anyone in the area. When I say immense, I mean immense. We're talking miles in diameter here.

(Showing page 1 of 8)

►ShadowFae13 (Half Fae, All Awesome)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:

I'm betting 50 dollars that it's Legion. Somehow.

►Stalking_Fan  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
I eagerly await when the Justice League promptly hands this bug controllers ass to them. fuck that swarm and whoever made it.

►ShadowFae13 (Half Fae, All Awesome)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Umm No? I'm decently sure Queen Bee is a mind controlling tyrant, and she could be up to something like that Wotan bastard a while back, and now Bug Controller is kicking her ass.

►OneRingtoZapThem (Verified Not-Lantern)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Sweet Plagues of Kahndaq! That is a lot of bugs.

Looks like Legion decided to tell Queen Bee a few facts of life.

There can only be one Queen in a Hive.

►RagnarokAscends (The Guy in the Know)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Pretty sure even that pile of body horror doesn't have the kind of range, guys.

►Dethklok  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Legion's a dude.

Although some bugs are asexual. So maybe this was a bitch fight.

►NeroAugustus (Verified Not-Roman)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Well, seems like my garden needs a gratuitous amount of torch-smoke. Time to go light all the torches. And maybe buy a few thousand more?

►Flytrap (Verified Elemental) (Verified Garden...er)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
So has the Swarm been noted to actually have killed anyone yet?  
because I've got a cousin around that area who said the swarm passed over them entirely.

►Orion Ultor (Verified Planeswalker)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
It seems that a Pawn in the game of life has risen up to become a Monarch…though if it is whom I suspect, they have done more than become a simple monarch, Basileus.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 6, 7, 8

(Showing page 2 of 8)

►I_See_Cats_Everywhere  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
So now that Legion has shown that he is capable of being one of the plagues of Kahndaq who else will try to match that?

►Orion Ultor (Verified Planeswalker)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
The Pharoh of Kahndar? I assume that he still remembers the last time a Biblical Plaque came through Kahndaq and isn't too thrilled about seeing what basically amounts to Round 2…

►GGordon (Verified Media Personality)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
I've been warning you for years about the dangers of these so-called "heroes" acting as a law unto themselves. What do we do when individuals can declare open warfare upon nations? Biyalia is a rogue state, certainly, and few outside of it will mourn the death of its tyrant, but what does this precedent say about other world leaders? And what of the innocent citizens who will be taken out along with her by this living plague? Do they now have to kowtow to our self-proclaimed "saviors" before they act in the interests of us, normal human citizens of Earth?

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Okay, why is everyone jumping to conclusions here? Legion has never before shown the range needed to do something like this. My bet is a sorcerer cast some kind of spell that replicates the plagues of Egypt.

EDIT: GGordon, we have no evidence whatsoever that this is a hero, nor any reports of being killed. This could be a supervillain trying to hold the world's food production for ransom. Chill.

►Dethklok  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
You sound like an illegal immigrant, Gordon. I know people with British accents are supposed to be evil, but you sound extra evil.

Almost apokaliptic.

►StarsandStripes  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Gordon's kinda got a point, guys. Queen Bee pissed someone powerful off and a lot of people are bound to get caught in the crossfire.

►RagnarokAscends (The Guy in the Know)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Here's the situation thus far, based on what I've heard:

7:10 PM GMT, Yesterday: Bialyan artillery, specifically the 18th Artillery Brigade, fires on the Logan Animal Sanctuary without provocation. If you all will remember, Legion visited the place earlier in the year. No word yet on if anyone got hurt, but there were no follow-up barrages.  
11:00 AM GMT, Today: Swarm appears near the camp where the 18th Artillery is based, covering it completely. No fatalities were reported.  
11:15 AM GMT, Today: Swarm begins moving toward Al-Qawiya, growing in size. Shorts are browned.  
11:30 AM GMT: Swarm still moving, official people start taking notice. According to some of my sources the reaction was...not fun.  
11:35 AM GMT: Justice League releases general statement that they're aware of the problem and working to solve it.

No fatalities reported as of yet. Will post further once more info comes my way.

►Professor Janus (Verified Sane Man) (Change for the Change God)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Posting Bee Movie Meme...Now.

Waiting to Play 'Ding Dong the Witch is Dead' soon, either because of Metas or because of Bee's own people.

GGordon:  
Oh please, everyone knows you are just a sufferer of meta-envy. Cat Grant is a more reliable source of impartial views while you are the poor man's Bethany Snow.

Though if you want powers, I think LexCorp have gotten the kinks out of their police power armor so it doesn't bond to its wearer and pull a Judge Dredd, supposedly so just talk to them if you want to compensate for something.

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Can we not do the personal attack thing? I disagree with the guy, but he has a right to his opinions.

►Orion Ultor (Verified Planeswalker)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
GGordon  
Do you know something we don't know? Queen Bee's death hasn't been reported on or confirmed, making you both an a**hole and a yellow journalist and a slanderer for trying to stir up trouble and panic, unless you can cite at least two sources of credible information to prove otherwise.

PS: You have crow's feet.

EDIT: Also, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert have always been better than you.

Devil's_Advocate  
I agree with this, so let's be reasonable people.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 6, 7, 8

(Showing page 3 of 8)

►World Reader (Unverified Alternate Dimension Viewer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
GGordon  
Where's your proof that a hero did anything wrong? All we know is that the swarm is going on. And as far as I know, Legion, as the only person who I can see doing the swarm, doesn't have this type of range. Magic theory above seems creditably if not for the fact of a lack of casualties.

Dethklok  
Yes, yes, Gordon likes pocking meta-humans with a stick. And he will eventually cause an apocalypse-level calamity. I've seen the JL avoid it from happening like twelve times.

RagnarokAscends  
Same on my sources. Superman has been seen flying off by Metropolis locals.

►Dethklok  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Devil's_Advocate

Where's Gordon's birth certificate?

Is it in English?

►GGordon (Verified Media Personality)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Dethklok  
Typical. Just typical. You can't speak to the substance of my post, and resort immediately to name-calling and racism. I won't even deign to comment on your poor grasp of spelling; what else can we expect from the internet?

Professor Janus  
Your worship of your neo-gods is sickening. It isn't about "wanting powers." It's about wanting common decency from those with them, and not having dangerous people with god-complexes deciding they're above the law. I applaud the development of tools for keeping the militaries and police that answer to and protect those of us who don't hold ourselves above the law, so they might bring such dangerous criminals to heel, but I have no need for "powers" to have a right to see my government stand above those with them, just like everybody else.

►FundamentalEnvironmentalist (Greenpeace Hater)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Umm...the cloud of bugs is still growing...I am kind of concerned about the ecological effects of so many insects being gathered in one place...

Aw man, bug-phobic people are going to have heart attacks arn't they?

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
RagnarokAscends

Why the fuck do you shell a FUCKING WILDLIFE SANCTUARY WITH FUCKING ARTILLERY! I don't even...

Okay. Calmer now. Looks like this could be Legion after all. Dunno where he got the power boost, but this seems like he could be retaliating for the place (which, btw, is not actually in Bialyan territory) getting shelled.

Also, were any Rangers/other civilians hurt?

On the minus side, this looks like a punitive attack by a hero on a sovereign country which is...bad. on the plus side, it looks like Legion isn't lashing out blindly, and if he didn't kill the people who did the shelling, he likely won't hurt civilians either. So, yay?

►BatmanSucks (Verified Hater)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
I told you that the abomination of nature was going to go crazy! I told you so!

[User has been warned for this post]

►MiddleEastReport (Original Poster) (Moderator) (Newsbot)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Okay, we have confirmation on the following:

The Swarm reached Al-Qawiya at about 2:30 PM GMT  
Superman enters the area at about 3 PM GMT, the bugs literally part around him.  
At about 3:10, Queen Bee gives a speech at Bialyan Plaza about the crisis. Mid-word, one of the Desert Lions shoots her in the back, before being subdued by the others.  
The Swarm immediately leaves, the bugs reversing course and, as far as sources can tell, returning to their original habitats.

Save for Queen Bee, I don't think anyone's died.

►Orion Ultor (Verified Planeswalker)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
FundamentalEnvironmentalist  
If it has Black Widows or those Mosquitoes I'm allergic to, I might just leave this planet.

MiddleEastReport  
QB's dead? Oh thank you Legion!

►KittenEater (Does Not Actually Eat Kittens)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
I see our local Joker apologist has gone off his meds again. I thought he was still banned?

►TheHammerofBans (Moderator)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
BatmanSucks has never actually gone far enough to be permabanned, and he ran out his last tempban of three months. That being said, Kitten, consider this a warning that you're edging close to our personal attack rules.]

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

(Showing page 4 of 8)

►GGordon (Verified Media Personality)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Orion Ultor

PS: You have crow's feet.

EDIT: Also, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert have always been better than you.

They're smile lines. Sadly, I have had little reason to add to them in recent months.

And I'm glad you enjoy their shows. They got their start as interns with me, and they deserve all the accolades you can give them. Hard-working, honest, human young men with incisive minds.

►Professor Janus (Verified Sane Man) (Change for the Change God)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Ding dong the Witch is dead.

And we have a Moses of the week in the form of Superman parting the bug sea.

And now we let the conspiracies fly.

Preemptive: Void Cowboy, don't do it.

►Dethklok  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Blood pleased the dark god.

►GGordon (Verified Media Personality)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Devil's Advocate  
On the minus side, this looks like a punitive attack by a hero on a sovereign country which is...bad. on the plus side, it looks like Legion isn't lashing out blindly, and if he didn't kill the people who did the shelling, he likely won't hurt civilians either. So, yay?  
This is a VERY bad precedent. And don't be fooled. You're reduced to being grateful that he spared innocents, when you should be angry at him taking international law into his own hands. Probably over some personal vendetta, no less! Legion has been working closely with the Justice League, and apparently was on good terms with the illegal immigrant Kryptonian even during his unilateral declaration of war.

It was a message, alright. A very frightening one. "Obey me because I am strong, or I will terrorize people until they're grateful that I spared them while coming after you." That doesn't sound like equality. That sounds like the start of tyranny. I've warned you, people. But nobody listens to good ol' G Gordon.

►Dethklok  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Good old G Gordon, telling me how I'm supposed to feel.

And what was international law doing about Queen Bee? Just kicking the can down the road.

►StarsandStripes  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Jeez. So one bitch decides to poke a bear and the rest of us suffer?

►World Reader (Unverified Alternate Dimension Viewer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
MiddleEastReport  
My sources are going off all the world. Officials in DC, London, LexCorp, WayneTech, and various think-tanks are on the situation. Superman being let through the swarm as well as previous posts points towards Legion's abilities being amplified by his current emotional state and somehow nullifying Queen Bee's mental thrall over several hundred people. There are suicide reports across Bialya, and every single person has been given orders directly from Queen Bee. Currently working to confirm/deny theory.

GGordon  
A good point on international consequences this could have. However, my sources are telling me that Legion, while potentially damaging the local ecosystem, possible illegal entry into the country, and nullifying QB's powers, which could be seen as assault of some sort if you squint really hard, has done nothing else besides frighten the locals.

►GGordon (Verified Media Personality)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Dethklok

Oh, no, my friend, I wouldn't tell you how to feel. That's the "heroes'" job, after all. "Hate this person; they made the heroes mad." "Love us, we're always right." "Trust us, we're better than you."

International law isn't a person, it's thousands of regular Joes like you and me working together. Containing problems is difficult, but the 'easy' solution isn't always the best one. Look at the chaos this so-called 'hero' has created in just a few hours! The region will be destabilized for years, mark my words.

Edit:  
World Reader  
A good point on international consequences this could have. However, my sources are telling me that  
Legion, while potentially damaging the local ecosystem, possible illegal entry into the country, and  
nullifying QB's powers, which could be seen as assault of some sort if you squint really hard, has done  
nothing else besides frighten the locals.

All good points. Look how many laws one "superhero" has decided he can just ignore! How many rights of normal people he feels justified in trampling! Does he care about the reported suicides? No. Of course not. He may as well have pulled the trigger, himself, if these were victims of a tyrant with superpowers.

And you still are treating his terrorizing of the citizens of Biyalia as a mercy because that's all he did. If he did just that in New York City, he'd be labeled a villain immediately. But because he's taking the law into his own hands and proclaiming himself above the representatives of normal people around the world, you're treating it as if he's done those people some great favor!

Bow, bow to your superhero rulers. Kowtow, lest they do more than merely frighten you. They're not even pretending anymore; they think they're our betters, and they're showing us in Biblical fashion.

►PhantomStalker (Verified Gotham Resident)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:

Well, not what I was expecting after a double shift, but I'll take it. One less dictator in the world, and for good measure, taken out by her own bodyguard. That's what, few 5.56mm to the back? Even with prompt medical care, I ain't betting good odds on her survival.

►Ballistics (Verified Gun Nut)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
PhantomStalker

7.62, but yeah, she ain't getting up from that.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

(Showing page 5 of 8)

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
GGordon

As mentioned above we have been given no actual evidence that legion went anywhere near Queen Bee. At no point was she within his normal or expanded ranges that we know of. At no point has Legion ever demonstrated the ability to fully mind control a person. Let's wait for more evidence.

Was what we know Legion to have done illegal? Yes. Was it wrong? That really depends on how you look at things. As for me, well, let me put it like this. When a tyrannical dictator attacks a friend of yours without any kind of provocation, and you have the power to act, should you?

I would answer yes. I'd wager quite a few other people on this Earth would too. "All that is needed for evil to succeed is for good men to do nothing." When we and those we care for are threatened, I maintain that we should act. Act reasonably and legally wherever practicable, but act.

►StripeyOrangeCat (temp-banned)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
That witch killed my Mom and almost killed me. She attacked our home, and slaughtered the animals there, just because she could! I'm GLAD Legion took her out. I just wish he'd burned her whole country down around her! She was evil! BIYALIA DESERVED WHAT IT GOT AND THEN SOME!  
[User was temp-banned for this post]  
Moderator In light of SingingInAMine's comments, we'll make this a one-day ban to give you some time to cool down. Our sympathies are extended, but it is against board policy to call for violence.

►XxVoid_CowboyxX  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Woah, were you and your mom on that animal sanctuary, Stripey_Orange_Cat? That's rough. Did the attack give you superpowers? Is that why the League took her out?

►SingingInAMine (Verified Justice League)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
While Stripey_Orange_Cat has every reason to be upset, we ask that people treat it as the venting it is. He doesn't really want more people hurt. The Justice League does not condone this action in Biyalia, though we feel for those who were victims of its tyrannical regime.

►Hotel Fiver Fiver Omega (Verified Engineer) (Verified Not-a-Villain)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Uhh... What the fuck just happened?  
I mean, bugs? All the bugs?  
Did Queen Bee piss off some Jewish Rabbi and did he Call Upon the Plagues once again?

EDIT:  
Nope. It was Legion. Again.  
You never answered my question, BTW. Are you a swarm intelligence or a Central Intelligence bug... thing.  
Again, it's for Drones.

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Stripey_Orange_Cat  
I am sorry for your loss.

And World Reader comes through again. On reflection, I really cannot find it in my heart to blame that soldier in any way. I can't imagine what it must have been like to be mind controlled (and given that the pheromones only worked on those who were already attracted to QB, likely raped) for years. You come out of that, remembering everything you did in that time, your gun is in your hands, and the person who raped you is in front of you? Yeah, I'd call that a righteous shoot.

►World Reader (Unverified Alternate Dimension Viewer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Devil's_Advocate

I personally agree. Sources from the UN and several governments say that they've kept from taking Queen Bee down due to international consequences of her displacement and the non-existent evidence of her liberal use of mind control in her political career. Evidence which her victims are currently supplying.

Stripey_Orange_Cat  
Sources have confirmed that QB directly ordered the attack of the *Redacted* Animal Sanctuary. Name of said Sanctuary has been redacted for the privacy of Stripey_Orange_Cat.

Xx_Void_Cowboy_xX  
That comment was in poor taste. Please be aware of the emotional sensitivity of those involved.

SingingInAMine, the JL's position on this event is noted. My sources as well as personally gathered information indicates that the JL was not involved in this and while Legion is deeply affiliated with you, you are in no way involved in this event. Please make sure that Stripey_Orange_Cat receives what help he needs. He's a good kid, and needs help getting through this.

Edit: I'm off for a bit. If the thread's still going when I get back, I'll keep my eyes on it. Sources indicate that there's some serious movement coming from LexCorp. Sources also indicate Qurac president, Rumaan Harjavti, will be releasing a statement about this event within the next 25 minutes.

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Any word on expected ecological damage from the swarm? It would be painfully ironic if retaliation for the shelling of a wildlife sanctuary just made everything worse for the environment.

►RagnarokAscends (The Guy in the Know)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Word from my own sources is that the bugs eventually wandered off back to wherever they came from. As in, if you took the satellite images of the Swarm leaving and played it backwards, it'd be indistinguishable from ones of the Swarm arriving. Cree-py.

►OneRingtoZapThem (Verified Not-Lantern)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Well, I called it. One Queen in a Hive indeed.

Guess she learned why using mind control to rule doesn't work long term, there's always a way to disrupt it.

Glad that Stripy_Orange_Cat has someone looking after him though.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

(Showing page 6 of 8)

►PunGent (Verified Gotham Resident)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
This is going to sound really bad, but the question needs asking:

How much of that swarm was bees? What's the irony quotient on this attack? Commitment to theme is usually a good indicator of how worried you need to be.

►Silver Wanderer (Verified Hawaiian Shirt Guy) (Traveling a Lot)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
So wait, Queen Bee has been using metahuman powers for years? How come no one noticed? I mean, are people who were pheromone controlled not all that difference to notice from anyone else?

Hey Devil, since you know a bit of law, is Legion in trouble legally for using a metahuman power to undo another metahuman power? I mean, it technically counts as assaulting a foreign leader if you squint enough right?

Although Legion should be commended for not hurting anyone even the military even when emotional charged, only disabling a mind control power. Actually are the UN and governments around the world going to take action on mind control powers from now on? Can they? I mean, what happened at Bialya was unnoticed for so long. Is something like this is only detected after it's too late?

*Sigh* I can tell one thing. The allegations of mind control are going to increase by a shit-ton from now on.

...Say, if Legions range is now global; Hey PlagueNumberEight, can you do a world wide public service and keep bugs away from all housings everywhere. Or at least all hospitals?

►ArchonoftheLost  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
You know, we shouldn't be surprised by this. It's in his username after all.

►World Reader (Unverified Alternate Dimension Viewer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:

I'm back. Contacts in the magical community hit pay dirt. Something's going on with the Red and Clear. Magicians around the world are working to find the cause, though they're currently looking into Legion. Sources from London say that the Biyalian embassy has erupted into chaos and at least one person on site was wounded.

Silver Wanderer  
QB's pheromone manipulation didn't overtly effect the person's personality unless QB was involved. She was a master of manipulating people with her powers and we're only now seeing the effects due to her death.

Myself, and several of my sources are interested in the implications of your new range, Legion.

Press release indicates that Qurac will be sending in people and resources in an attempt to stabilize the newly overthrown dictatorship. Sources agree, but speculation seems pessimistic on its effects, reaction of the public in both nations, and international opinion. UN sources are telling me that they are planning on addressing the JL on this event severely.

Edit:  
Devil's_Advocate  
The latter would indicate that her abilities were sustaining the effects when victims left her range. Sources indicate that Legion is somehow curing her victims through his bugs, magic contacts are saying he's spreading it via any insect he's previously manipulated and their offspring. Requesting Zatara to confirm/deny with his own sources.

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Silver Wanderer  
Probably. It depends on whether he simply cured her victims or somehow removed her ability entirely. If he did the latter, it is most likely assault of some kind.

Edit: unfortunately unable to comment much for the next few hours. Work sucks.

►Silver Wanderer (Verified Hawaiian Shirt Guy) (Traveling a Lot)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
World Reader

Wait, wait, let me guess. Some of them where under QB's control and now that it's gone they are feeling either outraged or suicidal. How close am I?

The problem is the implications of how many others people have power in the same theme as hers. It is very paranoia inducing when one thinks about it for too long. How many of your personal relationships are true and how many where created by literal outside forces influencing your mind.  
I mean, I don't have to worry, my self-loathing powering anger magic power protects me from mental influences, but you don't know about other people.  
That's why when God, or Gods, made the cosmos, He/They really should have made an extra rule on the priority of one's Will.

Huh, neat. So if he just removed her influence/cured her victims then no repercussions? Cool, would be a shame if a hero (from what we have seen so far) was shat on by a technicality.

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Silver Wanderer

Honestly I am guessing, but it seems like the first would be something like healing someone, while the second would be an attack.

And the issue with mind control is that there are a lot of different kinds of it, which each use different mechanisms to control the victim. There's hypnosis, telepathy, pheromones etc. And not all or even most of them are obvious. You could have someone with embedded commands that activate to induce a suggestible state, for example. Tbh, you should be scared. It's a scary topic.

►Silver Wanderer (Verified Hawaiian Shirt Guy) (Traveling a Lot)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Yeah but the result is basically the same. Removing/subverting one's ability to action by their own will.

I just hoped official authority to couldn't a reason to come after Legion, thus asking for clarification.

►World Reader (Unverified Alternate Dimension Viewer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Sources have found that Princess Beatriz, the heir of Queen Bee, has shown negative on the meta-gene and is being flown in from the US now. She shows traces of QB's pheromones, which have been dismissed as remains of being in contact with her sister over a long period of her life. I have my sources keeping an eye on the situation, but it doesn't seem like she was majorly affected.

Silver Wanderer  
Pretty much. 4 confirmed dead and two in the ER. The situation has been neutralized and contained, and people are being flown to their families.

Agreed. However, humans all influence one another and it can be difficult at times to separate the charismatic from the meta.

Devil's_Advocate

The different types of magic, mental, chemical, etc. abilities of the world are terrifying. Some wizard could rewrite reality or mess with the timeline and you'd never know anything changed. That's why we have the JL and UN.

►Pulsar (Failed Hero) (Yes Really)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
really hope for sake of a large chunk of the poor sods that live in the middle east that whoever is doing this coughlegioncough puts those insects back where they found them otherwise we are looking at an ecological meltdown. You can see it from ORBIT I know because I'm frickin looking at it from orbit. Now if everyone will excuse me I'm going to hide in a vacuum sealed box for a week and hope the the mystery meta coughlegioncough doesn't eat me.

Orion Ultor  
Pretty sure the guy your talking about predates the plagues by over a thousand years...

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

(Showing page 7 of 8)

►WillSurpasstheMoon (Unverified Wizard)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
You know this has been an interesting discussion. I wish G Gordon would be a bit less specist and a lot less ranty about it but he does bring up a good point. If Legion pulled this in America, and a public official got offed in the process, there would be hell to pay.

However I think that's less an indication that Legion shouldn't have done it, and more that someone should have sooner.

At a certain point you just have to accept that the universe is broken and take action to make it stop sucking so hard.

Legion ignored a lot of laws, however when the law is part of the problem it needs to be broken and remade.

Ok say Legion wasn't a NOPE elemental, just a guy with a sniper rifle, or a guy with a lot of money who hired a guy with a sniper rifle. If Sniper!Legion bumped off QB the same or more laws would have been broken, but a lot less people would care.

I've talked to a lot of people who work in or around that part of the world, all the best ancient magical artifacts come from that general area, and they claim that anyone with even a basic telempathic sense could tell that something was up. It seems to me that Heroes causing big scenes like this is a symptom, and the problem is the fact that the nominal authorities are either so blindingly incompetent and/or willfully ignorant that we're forced to rely on people like Legion instead of having a viable means of defending ourselves that we can attach proper oversight to.

So I'm not going to say I'm happy about this, beyond the fact that there's one less neo-barbarian dictator in the world, but it's kind of the logical result of the fact that society hasn't done enough to police itself.

►Dethklok  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
For all the G Gordons crying about accountability and the proper channels and the UN barking at the League about Legion going off script, will the common person on the street feel the same way, especially once the pheromone control and predatory sexual behavior on Bee's part comes to light? That she was no angel? What would the governments of the world done had there been proof of mind control? For all the fear, this was far less destructive or disruptive than an actual invasion.

Would that have even happened, or would QB have gotten a wag on the finger about mindfrakking people all the way to control of a national military and an artillery unit, which seems to be how this mess got started in the first place?

►Rune Weaver (Unverified Magician)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
WillSurpasstheMoon

Thank you!  
I've been say this for years! Why don't we have any kind of gov supernatural regulation? imagine a world in which there were no fire departments? a world in which fires that burn down homes are just ignored and local fire fighting hobbyists are forced to deal with the problem? why isn't there a magic department or anti-mind control task force to protect us from these monsters?

►Termanus (Knows Less Than He Wants To)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Has anyone confirmed that the queen is actually dead? Official statements and independent, reputable verification? What verification do we have that she had meta-powers, other than an admitted preponderance of hearsay?

And what has happened to the guy who shot her? Or the rest of her guards/alleged victims?

Come on, less speculation and hysteria, more verified information, sheeple!

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Silver Wanderer  
Although the result is the same, the myriad of possible mind control methods make it nearly impossible to guard against or even check for all of them. Unless you have some kind of conceptual I AM MYSELF enchantment, I guess.

WillSurpassTheMoon  
Agreed. On the telempathic senses: we really need better reporting for this stuff. UN investigators with empathic abilities? I feel like the law, and the public are still playing catch-up to the superhero phenomenon.

I actually agree with GGordon (at least a little) that the current state of affairs is not an optimal one. The position we are in now is one of constant risk, and sooner or later the Justice League are going to roll snake-eyes. All the government seems to do is try to protect us from the League: what they should be worrying about is how to protect us when the League inevitably fails.

The League has to win every time: Wotan only needs to put out the sun once.

►RagnarokAscends (The Guy in the Know)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Termanus

Testimony from victims is here and here.  
She took what I'm pretty sure are 3 AK rounds in the back. Video here. She's not getting up from that.

The Desert Lion who shot her, according to my sources, is recovering. Some of the other Lions were less quick to be purged of QB's influence and tackled him as you can see in the video.

►Stalking_Fan  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Devil's_Advocate

Wotan in this hypothecial scenario will only have about an hours worth of time basking in his victory before the worlds nuclear, chemical, and biological arsenal unloads on his tiny vaporized ass. and maybe more GLs popping out of the woodwork with some YLs assisting them. is there any Rings of Hope? if so add them to the army that will kill Wotan.

►ThatOneGuy (That One Guy)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Uhh...little off topic but does anyone know what QB's actual full name is?

Been following the story but have not been able to find it with every instance of news media and online source calling her Queen Bee with nothing calling her by her real name, and that is kind of creeping me out right now.

►World Reader (Unverified Alternate Dimension Viewer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Pulsar  
It has been taken care of. See earlier posts.

Termanus  
My sources concur with RagnarokAscends.

Devil's_Advocate  
Keep in mind, the League is our best response team for international events such as this, but there are also other independent heroes and governments have their own countermeasures. Such countermeasures non-disclosed to even I. Officially at least. Sources also suggest that Batman has contingencies for any event concerning the JL, including the possibility if they go rouge. Including and especially himself. This is however, not confirmed because: Batman. Dude's a flipping ninja.

Stalking_Fan  
Agreed. Everybody would be against him. Supervillains need the sun too.

ThatOneGuy  
I believe she legally changed it. I don't remember and can't find her ever being called anything else, even by fellow politicians.

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Thing is, the sun would still be gone. A lot of villains are not rational. And the crazy ones are the ones you really have to watch out for.

World Reader, I am in no way, shape or form trying to criticize the League, here. But even Batman is a single point of failure. I get antsy when there is only a single point of failure between me and death.

Edit:  
Even if the governments of the world cannot match the League, what would help is getting better tech into the hands of first responders. Giving firefighters a less powerful version of Captain Cold's freeze ray would really help, for example.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 5, 6, 7

(Showing page 8 of 8)

►PhantomStalker (Verified Gotham Resident)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Devil's_Advocate

You're telling me. I work in Gotham as a armored car driver, you wouldn't believe how many nuts I see on a day to day basis.

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Question for you World Reader: do we know how many people QB enthralled outside her little fiefdom? Has their enthrallment broken as well, or are they still acting on their last orders received?

►World Reader (Unverified Alternate Dimension Viewer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
My count's in the higher two thousand outside and six thousand in all, and growing exponentially. Sources estimate top range to be a couple hundred thousand, taking into account ones who won't report it. Legion's swarm/bug magic is cancelling out the effects worldwide. See my post on London's Bialyan embassy. However, anyone in an area/clean space where bugs can't get to them could slip through the cracks. Not sure how long Legion's magic will stay in effect, so chances are one or two might get away. I'd advise all governmental officials who had contact with her or those who've had contact with her to be screened by the JL Lanterns. And Manhunter for any mental shenanigans. PMed the suggestion to Batman's (most probable) account, but who knows what the governments'll decide.

►I'veHadItWithTheseSnakes  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Enough is enough! What happened here was a miracle and I want you people to acknowledge it. One of the plagues of Egypt came and struck down upon the wicked with great vengeance and furious anger.

All you mamby pamby sissies quibbling over if this action was right. You aught to be ashamed of your damned self. Queen Bee deserved to die and I hope she burns in hell!

►BRUCEWYANEISTHEBATMAN! (Banned)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
BRUCE WAYNE IS TEH BATMAN, THE BUTTS MATCH, THE PROOF IS INDISPUTABLE.

Mod edit, Banned again, jesus how many times do need to tell you people that damn meme isn't even funny anymore.

►Devil's_Advocate (Unverified Lawyer)  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
Are you suggesting that Legion is the LITERAL Biblical Plague embodied?

►ArchonoftheLost  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:  
*points at Legion's chosen username again*

►  
Replied On Sep 28th 2010:

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 6, 7, 8**

 **3:21 PM EDT, Wednesday, September 28th, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"Legion," Martian Manhunter says, tinges of emotion in his voice. I frown, but open my mind anyway, and he takes a step back, hand going to his forehead.

++Sir. The League has made a decision?++ Speech isn't...if I'm going to be kicked out I want them to know every word I say is heartfelt and true.

"It...has. The Team is an independent entity. Ultimately, it will be their decision what to do with you. You should consider yourself confined to the Mountain until that decision is made."

Less than I'd expected, honestly. I relax slightly. ++Understood, sir. So I have until tomorrow?++

"You still think you'll end up leaving," Batman says. It's not a question.

I shrug. ++Difference in morality, whether or not what I did to Queen Bee was acceptable. If it's the Team's decision...++ I pause. ++How're you going to handle the fallout?++

"The League will make an announcement regarding your actions. Reiterate the fact that the League is not going to appoint itself judge, jury, and executioner of the world. What _you_ should do is stay out of the public eye, no matter the Team's decision," Batman says calmly.

That little verbal barb almost hurt. Almost. Still slightly drunk on anger, I think, numbing everything else.

Rein it in, Grant. Calm.

++And if I end up being ordered out? I have a few ideas for finding a new base, but anything habitable...I have ideas, but they are not exactly subtle, and finding a suitable site is...tricky.++ I don't say that I could just end up squatting in the Tower of Fate. Got the key, after all...hmm.

It might not be needed. It depends on Kaldur, since he's in command. He seemed like he'd stand by me, but if it's a choice between me and the cohesion of the rest of the Team...it could go either way. I don't like chance, loathe uncertainty.

Batman and Manhunter exchange glances.

"There are...a few possible sites that you could be directed towards. _Not_ as a League effort," Batman eventually says. "You will be informed shortly."

I'm not sure I like the sound of that. Sounds like he's setting me up for something else. A second deniable asset? No, _bad_ paranoid tendencies. Stop.

++Good. Will that be all, sirs?++

"Yes. Dismissed."

I'm gone in a tide of chitin.

 **10:38 PM EDT**

 _Click._

" _-ttling down at the Bialyan border after Princess Beatriz's return. The coronation will be taking place next week, and-"_

 _Click._

" _-acting as a law unto himself! He decides to attack a country. Yes, Bialya was a despotic state, the degree of which we are still finding out. But he acted alone, lashing out blindly-"_

 _Click._

" _-made an official statement today calling for the Justice League to exercise tighter control over their affiliates, and-"_

 _Click._

" _-on, people. It's not like we're going to see people attacking China or the UK or whatever. You know why? Because those countries aren't being run by evil dictators with a penchant for kicking puppies and shelling random civilian places for no discernible reaso-"_

No. _Click._

Bugs in the hangar shift as doors open, and I shut off the TV. Okay.

I have a plan if things go south. Okay. Breathe. A brief check. Cassie's in her room in the Mountain, Garfield...okay, I honestly have no idea what he's fooling around with but the assemblage of circuits and metal he's turned one of the speakers and an abandoned holographic terminal into hasn't exploded or gone on a rampage in the twenty minutes he's spent building it so I won't intervene. Besides, I think poking a Tinker mid-fugue, _especially_ a bio-Tinker, is a good way to get turned into spare parts.

Still not sure what he's doing with it if he's a _bio_ -Tinker. Looks like a glass box, edged with machinery and tiny arms. A 3-D printer? Hm.

The Bio-ship descends to the floor of the Cave, and with a brief whirl of change and motion I'm in front of it. The ramp glorps its way down to the ground, and the Team straggles out.

Huh. Wolf.

"Let me guess. He followed you home," I say as the massive creature stalks up to me. I offer it a hand, which it sniffs, then licks. "Good pup," I say, reaching up and rubbing its ears.

 _Twisting chains of chemicals, bound to muscle and bone and skin, reaching to eyes, injecting magic into nuclei and chromatin, binding deep-_

"Hmmm. Kobra Venom?" I muse.

"Yeah," Elias says. "Turns out Brain was using the place to experiment on animals. Wolf decided to come along."

"Want me to heal up those skin tears?" I ask.

"Sure."

Hmm. Benediction. Be what you should, not what you are.

Skin tough enough and hardened to stop bullets writhes, shifts, and grows, and Wolf looks down at itself with surprise before barking happily.

I give Kaldur a glance, and nod.

"I ever tell you what a Tinker is?" I ask him. He shakes his head.

"Same origin as-" -I tap my head- "-my original powers. Shards. Mine's apparently been working on symbiosis. And spreading."

There's a collective intake of breath.

"Garth's got one...a Tinker is basically if you took...I don't know, Dr. Sivana, and narrowed their expertise to one specific application. He told me after you'd left." I give Wally and Artemis a look. "He's in his room building I don't know what. Go keep an eye on him?"

The two of them exchange looks, then nod, and head off. I can feel Robin's eyes trying to drill through my skull. "Cassie's got a shard as well. Not Tinker, so you'd miss it otherwise," I finally say. "I've written up a _lengthy_ report on what you might end up seeing." I bow my head slightly. "One last favor, huh?"

"The League's decision was to allow me the choice, Grant," Kaldur says calmly. "And currently I do not think anyone here is in any fit state to make such a decision."

I pause, and take in the muddied and battered state of my teammates, the pattern of electrical burns on Roy I's arm, the way Robin is holding himself, traceries of damage and bruises leaking into the Red as clear as if he was bare as the day he was born. I nod slowly, and hold up a hand glowing with Red light. "Alright, who needs healing?" I ask.

"I'm fine," Robin says. I raise an eyebrow.

"The Red has done a lot of things for me. Among them is telling me exactly what state your physical bodies are in. I _know_ a lot of you do, but felt it better to ask."

"I'm _fine._ "

Oh, for fuck's-

"Grant."

I take a deep breath, and nod to Kaldur. "Alright. Alright." I take a step back, staff tapping on the Cave floor. "Anyone else?"

Roy II shrugs. "Why not."

Red light flares, and he stands straighter. "Thanks."

Wolf chuffs, and sits himself down as the others acquiesce, minor scrapes and bruises mostly. Nothing too damaging. I give the huge canine another glance. "Does anyone know anything about wolf training?"

Elias grins sheepishly as the others start to disperse. "I was kinda hoping you would. Working with animals and all."

"I do insects," I say, completely deadpan. His smile vanishes.

"Yeah, I…"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. I love wolves. Favorite animal. Just have no idea how to train them." I give Wolf a look. ++Don't be a jerk, Alabama Clifford.++

Match blinks, then laughs. "Nice one."

Elias almost glares. "Your sense of humor is rubbing off on him."

"You say that like its a bad thing," Match says with a small smile.

He sighs. "I'm the reasonable one. That's new."

 **4:56 AM EDT, Thursday, September 29th, 2010**

I still don't sleep even if I have a semblance of humanity, now. Hmm. Aggravating. I take stock of the uncountable numbers of insects going about their business, and let that annoyance slip away into the count.

I had to wonder about the gloves, though. I've checked the sigils, and they're fairly common ones. Not demon-binding or elemental, but...for all intents and purposes, they signify what I am to anyone with the eyes to see and enough knowledge to know their work. A mark of the Red's favor? What would happen if I removed them?

Turns out, the sigils aren't part of the gloves.

They're brands.

Some quiet internal screaming later, I decide to test some work.

I've finished searching for all possible location for a new hideout. The best equipped for the long term would be Challenger Mountain. It's been abandoned ever since that minor incident with the demon incursion, and because of that very incursion it's stayed that way. A visit to a local priest to bless some bullets and I'd be set if anything was left, at least for cleaning up. Making it _habitable_ , on the other hand...well, that would need some mad science. The best kind of science.

Cadmus, ironically, provided a lot of ideas. With their files opened to the public after the company was absorbed by STAR Labs, and the Genomorphs have...actually, I have no idea how to contact them. I think they went off to work for one of the larger biocorps. Noncorporation? Something like that.

Not important. Short version, G-Sprite schematics will give me power, and I think I can call on the right materials for what I need for structural problems, thanks to the Red. And for guards…

I grin as Red light plays over the purplish, leathery-shelled egg. With my connection, it was easy enough to conjure what I needed, raw biomass the only requirement and _that_ solved more than easily with a near-endless horde of life willing to literally throw itself into the spell.

Am I doing this to distract myself from Kaldur's decision in the morning? Probably. Doesn't matter as I make the required adjustments to the tiny life swelling within. Low to the ground, armored in carbon-fullerenes and alloys that will grow with it and keep it proof against almost any weapon that can be carried by mortal man. Insect limbs and insect mind, a brief trace of _me_ laid into the developing mind that will ensure loyalty through racial memory. About as intelligent as the average dog. Scything blades, tucked away in specialized limbs, a limited growth of the motor cortex to allow an instinctive application of a Burner's disruption when they're put to use, at my order alone.

As minions, they'd be useful, but I needed something that could think.

Zerg? Well, why not?

Its work complete, the shell begins to crack as the life within grows and struggles. Blade-limbs lash out, flashing through my hands and cutting them apart in an instant. I laugh softly at the vigor of the new life, careful fingers already back where they should be as the shell explodes outward. The warrior is little larger than my head, but a few weeks careful feeding will change that soon enough.

"Chirr?"

It looks up at me with shining eyes, and my grin widens as I pet its blunt head softly. "First of the Swarm I name you, and bind you, and make you mine," I murmur, words half-instinct. Red flows, sigils flickering before my eyes. First tilts his head, then ducks down and begins lapping up the remnants of the yolk. Adorable.

The sound of a boot on the floor turns my head. Artemis is staring at the scene with wide eyes.

Hmm. The kitchen counter may not have been the best place to do this.

 **7:02 AM**

"Okay, now that we're able to talk," Wallace says. "I'm pretty sure he's gone crazy."

That hurts quite a bit, Wallace. Then again, I'm keeping bugs in the walls and ceiling and listening in, so he might be right. Paranoia is an aspect of insanity, I think.

"Gone? Pretty sure he already was," Artemis says bitterly.

Elias glares at her. "Don't you-"

"Enough." Kaldur's voice cuts through the air like a knife, and everyone in the conference room sits back immediately.

"I called this meeting so you might bare your grievances, not so you could use it to attack a Team member while he is not present. Legion acted to remove someone who attacked his friends. Our friends, as well. Some of you might disagree with his methods. I do myself. As do many of the League. That does not mean what he did was _wrong_. He acted in anger and pain, but his actions were _not_ those of a rampaging beast." His voice is low, quiet, and his presence fills the room. "He acted precisely, with calculation. If you have arguments over the implications...state them now. I will consider them before I make my decision about his presence on this Team."

M'gann nods. "It's not that I don't want him on the Team," she says quietly. "It's that I'm...worried for him. I think...I think it'd be better if he left, got some help."

"Don't think he thinks he _needs_ help, M'gann," Richard says. "He's cold, went and did what he did without blinking. Without asking the League if they were going to do something. He went off the handle, and I'm not sure it's just because of Garfield. Maybe it's just because he thought he could get away with it."

Wow. One 'I don't have to save her' moment and the son of Batman turns on me. I shouldn't be surprised. M'gann's sweet to worry, though…

Damn. Wonder if Gardner will still help me out without the League compensating him. Later, deal with it later.

"You've seen Legion. Okay, he's terrifying to just about everyone else, but he's the kind of guy who...well, brings in stray cats, kinda," Elias says vaguely. He pauses, thinking it through. "You saw what Bee did to the Logans. Garfield's having nightmares when he's not half-awake building...I think he called it a 'flesh printer' or something. I...really think him going after Bee was something any of us would've done. He just did it...first. Without asking us."

"Yeah, still not seeing the difference between killing someone and setting them up to _get_ killed," Roy I says, earning him the edgelordiest glare I've seen yet from his clone. He reddens, but continues. "Yes, we would probably be taking down Queen Bee if he hadn't first, but that's not the point. The point is we wouldn't have summoned a swarm of insects that could be seen from orbit to do it, and at the end of the day she'd be in jail, not dead. It was overkill, and even he said it was _unnecessary_ overkill. I don't want someone who does that working on a team that's supposed to be _covert._ Or someone who doesn't want us to help."

"He did what needed doing," Artemis says.

"You were literally calling him crazy five minutes ago, Art," Wallace says.

"You don't fucking get it, do you?" she snarls, before standing up. "I'm gonna go...fuck it, I'm gonna go for a walk."

An enthusiastic one? No, not the type. I tag her with a few gnats as she stalks out of the room.

I blink as, up in the common room, Cass approaches me, ears fully extended in their strange batness. She looks at me, then directly at the Team's conference room, then nods and sits on the couch next to me. She gives First, who's asleep in my lap, a look, but makes no comment.

"Sooo…." Wallace asks. "Any idea what that was about?"

"No idea," Match says. "We still going to make this decision, or what? I still don't think it's a good idea, kicking him out. Where's he gonna go?"

"I think he's already started packing. He probably has a plan," Robin says. He pauses. "Does he even _need_ to eat? I know he doesn't need sleep." He stops. "I just...I don't think I can work with him. Not after this."

"Same here," Wallace says quickly. "It's...this whole Team thing, we're supposed to work with each other. And with the League. And I _know_ the League's pissed at him."

"So that's it. We're just gonna throw him out?" Elias asks shortly.

Kaldur sighs. "We are not throwing anyone out."

Roy II frowns even more than usual. "I don't really care what he did. He got rid of Bee, and he wasn't exactly supposed to save her. But...here's the thing. I _know_ he kept his anger focused and under control." He nods to Elias. "Like Black Canary's been training some of us to. But that didn't stop him from reenacting the Old Testament. That...just isn't a good sign. I'd like him on the Team, he's got good intentions, but I want to be sure that if one of _us_ gets hurt, he's not going to do the same thing all over again, except worse."

Kaldur's nodding. Shit.

"Perhaps a...leave of absence would be best, for him. Time for him...and for us, to calm down."

I…

Okay. Okay. Calm. He's got a point. But I'm starting to go stir-crazy already, I can't _take_ being stuck in this Mountain that long.

++How about I just simplify things for you?++ I ask as insects build me a body in seconds. First chirrups as he finds himself on my shoulder. "That sound like a good proposition?" I ask.

"You were listening in?" Robin asks.

"Batman bugs my rooms, I bug everything," I say flatly. "So, yeah, don't be surprised I'm listening to find out who doesn't trust me anymore." I _grin_ at him. "So, let's see. There's only two ways this little bit of- fissuring? Fissuring- we've got going on ends. Either I leave, or you somehow all come 'round to my way of thinking. I _could_ try for the latter, except I'm no beacon of charisma, and well...like it or not, at the end of the day you depend on the League for just about everything. Pissing them off by keeping me...not exactly worth it, really." I spread my hands. "But throwing me out? That just pisses off everyone that wants to keep me, for whatever reasons they have for wanting it." My smile wavers for half a moment. "So I'll cut the Gordian knot: I'm leaving. If I do this right, y'all can look me up at Challenger Mountain. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a priest to go bug about some bullets."

###

 **12:07 PM MST, Monday, October 4th, 2010**

 **Challenger Mountain**

"You know, when you said you were going to live here, I expected it to look a bit more...I don't know. Magical?"

I grin at Match. "Well, if it's magic you're looking for I think you could find traces of the last demonic invasion down in the remnants of the town down there," I say, waving vaguely southward. "Nasty stuff."

"I still have to wonder how you're even allowed here," he says as we walk up the side of the Mountain. "Did some digging, and I think whoever's the last Challenger is the one who owns the place. Right?"

"Normally, yes. But she died last month. I asked her nephew, since he ended up with the deed. Made a trade- I cleared out any genetic causes for disease for him and his family, he handed the keys to the place over to me. It wasn't in very good shape when I showed up, either. They stripped out everything, and I mean _everything_ , before they left"

"So how're planning you keeping the lights on?"

"The ability to grow my own power systems. Stole some Cadmus designs to do it."

"You're going to be making Genomorphs?" There's an edge to his voice that isn't usually there. Oh. Right.

"No, no. Just copying the processing structure they used for the G-Sprites. Fascinating stuff. Takes in just about any kind of energy and converts it to electricity. They won't besentient and they won't be telepathically linked like the originals, so I'm not enslaving a hive mind like Cadmus did."

Match lets out a breath. "Okay. Still, brother would be...a little ticked if you mentioned it like that."

"I do have a talent for saying the worst thing at the worst possible moment, don't I?" I say, stepping towards an otherwise completely normal rock and pushing against it. After a moment, it slides aside, revealing a manhole cover that I pull open. "Thanks for volunteering to help with the heavy lifting, though. I think I've got the majority of the structural problems dealt with, but watch your step anyway. Forty years of neglect ain't pretty."

"Right." He glances down at the hole, and the rusty iron rungs that lead into absolute blackness. "How...are you actually building things? And getting the parts?"

"Remember First?" I ask as I jump down into the tunnel. It's black as pitch, but that isn't much of a problem. Eye of Khepri, and it springs into perfect vision. Fun name, too. Match's eyes glow slightly as superhuman vision kicks in.

"Huh. A little difficult to forget. Artemis keeps talking about him. So does Gar...but I think for different reasons. Why? Don't tell me something the size of a football fixed a mountain."

"He's actually a lot larger now. And no. He's called First for a reason."

There's a moment of silence as we walk down the tunnel.

"How...many of him did you make?"

"About fifty. A few variants. Guards, diggers, drones for construction work. Not much done that's actually, you know, livable, but we've had to rebuild pretty much the entire interior. And dug deeper as well. Mostly I've been feeding them scrap metal for the construction bits, a few alloys mixed in. Not cheap, but it's gotten the job done pretty nicely and it's not like I'm hurting for cash all that badly."

"Really."

Damn. Naive and inexperienced with the world or not, Match still knows when I'm bullshitting. "Fine. Construction costs and keeping the swarm fed have drained me pretty much dry. I'll start making it back once I'm able to set things up for a bigger workshop and start selling my stuff again."

"You're sure you're going to be okay?'

I sigh. "If I say yes, will you stop prodding?"

"No. You're a very bad liar."

"Fine. Talk about something else? How's the Team...taking everything?"

He frowns. "Not...all that well," he finally says, as we come to a heavy steel door that looms over both of us. I designed the thing to look like a Fallout Vault door, and as it turns out the mechanism to move them ensures that it's incredibly difficult to break down. Said mechanism is currently being operated by muscle power, though.

Granted, the muscle power is being provided by a pair of gigantic construct creatures I based off of ultralisks, but still. Not exactly efficient.

Match's eyes widen slightly as the door grinds its way open and weak light spills through.

Bioluminescent insects were easy to whip up, but there aren't many, a need to conserve biomass rather more pressing than a need to keep things lit when I have night vision on demand. Still, what few there are scattered around the ancient garage are more than enough to illuminate the hulking creatures, armored in bone and chitin and organically generated metal, bones built of alloy and carbon, far more flexible and strong than any naturally occurring material, muscles thick and layered enough to tell the square-cube law to fuck right off. Working in tandem, the six-legged behemoths shove the shaft holding the vault door in place aside with the huge dorsal armor plates they sport, before sitting back on their haunches. One leans over, twin bladed limbs shifting as it lowers its horned head to stare at Match. Eight eyes blink and focus on him, and it opens its mouth to reveal a truly impressive array of teeth.

"Don't worry, they're pretty friendly," I say, walking up to the big dope and reaching up to scratch it behind the auditory opening. It leans into it, nearly shoving me over.

"Okay, now I get why you're having money problems," Match says vaguely. "So they just...live here? I guess they fit in the tunnel, but how would you get them out? No way they could fit up that ladder."

"If we'd headed the other direction, there's another concealed entrance that's near a road. Still sealed off, but it's big enough to let them out if they need it. Not that they want to, the lazy bastards," I say with a grin. ++Good work.++

++ **Yay,** ++ the Behemoth responds.

Match blinks. "I thought you said they weren't telepathic."

"No, I said they wouldn't be _linked_ telepathically. They still communicate by it, but it's not the constant network the Genomorphs use. If it still causes a hive mind...well, I'll ask what it wants and go from there." I pause, then give the Behemoth one last pat before turning back to Match. "So, work? These guys can't exactly fit in the rest of the Mountain and there's a pile of metal bits and beams I need to turn into functioning interior walls pronto."

Match nods. "Lets get started."

 **4:03 AM MST, Wednesday, October 6th, 2010**

++Good boy, First,++ I say as the now-St. Bernard-sized 'insect' returns from the freshly-dug hole, bearing the sluglike shape of a borer drone in its dorsal limbs. The borer twitches, circular mouthparts rotating, before extending its own vestigial legs and waddling off towards the next site.

"Interesting," a voice says.

How the fuck-

"Sir."

"Legion," Batman says as I stand. He looks around, at the rock walls that surround the area, fresh-cut stone marking the change from the old generators to the space I'm clearing for the new spark drones. They're less efficient than the old reactor that was here, but far easier for the Red to maintain and impossible to sabotage.

"Here to make an offer?"

"Yes."

"Not for the League. For yourself?"

"I think alienating the man capable of controlling all insect life on Earth with perfect fidelity and multitasking is...less than ideal."

"And the League doesn't?"

"Some agree, others don't. Some are worried they'll have to fight you no matter what."

"Heh." My staff taps on the ground. "They shouldn't. But tell me what you want."

"Your cooperation. You're one of the few capable of acting on a worldwide scale, and remaining on good terms with you would be useful. Connection to the Zeta network, In return for your assistance with threats to the world as a whole."

"Seems like you're paying a lot for that little."

"Keeping an eye on you and ensuring that when you cross paths with us conflict will be avoided is worth the price."

"An...unofficial resource, then? I doubt I'm still a League affiliate."

"Precisely."

I tilt my head. "Get me enough material and food to finish work so it's something I can actually have people walk into, and you've got yourself a deal."

 **10:34 AM MST, Friday, October 8th, 2010**

 **Rifle, Colorado**

I am honestly surprised nobody has attempted to arrest me yet. Then again, this town is fairly close to what's left of Challengerville. Maybe they just have an extra-strength weirdness censor.

Still, while I'm in casual clothing, save for the gloves to conceal my brands, First is following behind me like a loyal hound, and _that_ should be attracting notice.

Maybe it is and they're too polite to mention it? Or they're afraid.

That makes a worrying amount of sense, actually. It'd also explain why the aisle in this grocery store is deserted.

"Okay, let's see…" I mutter, reading down the list. Actually buying food that's, well, food-based is kinda problematic. Back in Happy Harbor M'gann, Kaldur, and Elias usually picked out the meals. And the various Swarm creatures are pretty happy on a diet of meat, grain, and rocks. Primarily the last one, given how much metal is in their bodies.

But Match is bringing some of the others over, Cassie and Garfield included, and half-finished base or not I am going to be a damn good host and have a decent dinner prepared for everyone.

Okay, got everything. I think.

Oh? Huh. Guess some people aren't as oblivious as I thought. Hmm.

I pay quickly- it's not quite as bad as I thought, but still, even with everyone's favorite Badass Normal helping discreetly with food costs I'm still on a shoestring budget- and place the bags on First's back. The zergling chirrs but makes no motion other than to raise his blades to steady the load. I'd normally carry them myself, but…

I lean back as I exit the store, and the fist of the teenager in green passes an inch in front of my nose. Overextended, he stumbles, and I grab his shoulder, stopping him in place. He tries to struggle, but doesn't move my hand at all before I reach in and seize his voluntary nervous system below the neck.

"The fuck?"

"Care to explain yourself?" I ask as I force him to return to a normal, standing position. Wouldn't want him to fall on his face, after all.

"You think you can walk around with your pet monster and people won't take notice?"

"Considering that nobody except you has said anything, I'm pretty sure that yes, I do think that."

First growls, baring needle-like teeth the size of my finger.

++[Threat]++

++No. Stay.++

++[YesMaster]++

"So, you attacked me for having an exotic pet?"

"I went after you because you're obviously a supervillain. Now _let me the hell go._ "

"So we can wreck half the town in a brawl? No, thank you." I start walking, and with a grunt of protest the teen's body follows me. "I'm no villain. Name's Legion."

"Bullshit. Legion looks like a giant bug and controls them. And he wouldn't be anywhere near Colorado."

I raise a hand and let the sigils flare before turning it into a swarm and back again. "I've had a bit of work done. And I live nearby, now."

"Oh shit." Hah, I have a reputation. "Um, please don't get Biblical?"

"Why would I? You haven't hurt anyone. Now, I'm going to turn your nervous system back on in three, two, one-"

He stumbles, but recovers quickly. "How the fuck did you do that anyway?" he asks.

"Magic."

"Bullshit."

"Still don't know why people keep saying that."

"Because magic is something only little kids believe in?"

"Kid-" Fuck, he can't be more than two or three years younger than me. Nope, fuck it, committed to this path, lets do it. "-if you're itching to fight someone because you're the only person with superhuman strength for miles around and want to hit something that doesn't break, just say it. You don't need to ambush someone outside a supermarket. Where the hell are the cops, anyway? We're not exactly inconspicuous."

He almost laughs. "Do you know how many cops we have?"

"No."

"Twelve. I don't think they want to go near you. They called me instead."

"You're the only superhuman backup. The hell's your name, anyway?"

"Risk."

"So, Risk, while this conversation has been _wonderful_ , I've got a Mountain to get back to and a variety of things to bake. Would you mind telling the cops I'm not another supervillain and I'll probably be hanging around a bit? This is the closest town to Challenger Mountain, so I'll end up here a lot."

"Wait, what was that bit about Ch-"

Grab myself and First and the bags, find the bright threads of the Swarm, and pull.

 **5:02 PM MST**

 **Challenger Mountain**

" _Recognized: Superboy, B04, Artemis, B07, Match, B08, Cassandra Cain, A04, Wandersturm, A06, Garfield Logan, A07, Sphere, C01, Wolf, C02."_

B07. Guess I know where my designation went, then. Not sure how I should feel about that. Eh, fuck it, it's still worth the price. I smile as the others walk out of the tube, the light of the transmission fading away. Hmm. Not sure why Artemis is here, but I've made plenty of food either way.

"Welcome to Challenger Mountain, all y'all," I say with an exaggerated drawl.

The Zeta terminal had been shipped in in pieces, and it's now located in what had, at one point, been the hangar bay. The mechanism had been stripped out and I don't particularly feel like fixing it, so I've settled for having the smelter and constructor drones seal up the edges and reinforce it like the rest of the walls. Lightbugs provide more than enough light to see by, dotting the high ceiling and rock walls. They don't require much to produce their luminescence, but I still have a dozen feeder drones wandering about keeping them going. Creepy little guys even by my standards, but needs must.

"So, tour, or food first? And hi, Artemis. Here to chaperone? I figured Rudolf would count as adult supervision."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to come anyway. Got a problem?"

"Nope," I say with a smile.

"I'd like a tour," Cass whispers behind me. I whip my head around, find nothing, then smile. "Okay, you do realize that's not going to keep working?" I say to her. She shrugs, and smiles back.

Garfield makes an incoherent sound, staring at First with an honestly disturbing grin.

"Garfield."

Is he starting to vibrate?

++ **Garfield.** ++

"Guh!" He jerks backwards, then stops. "Sorry. Just...how did you _make_ him?"

"Creepily, at five in the morning, and while getting mutant egg yolk all over the kitchen," Artemis says pithily.

"Okay, let me guess- Tinker senses are in overdrive because he hasn't been building stuff."

"They made me stop after the hamster incident," Garfield mutters.

'You do not want to know' Elias mouths behind Garfield's back, shaking his head.

"Okay, but I guess that means food first. If you start doing that just for this guy, I _really_ think we should wait before showing off the Behemoths."

"You made- do I even want to know?" Artemis asks.

"You'll find out later," I say, walking to the pneumatic elevator, a large, rather roomy thing. Guess it was built for everyone who might show up. "For now, I have a vast quantity of spaghetti carbonara and chocolate cake I need to get rid of. And after that I'm going to see if I can set you up with something here, just so you can blow off steam."

"Really?" Garfield asks as we pile in. Artemis starts glaring.

I shrug. "There's an old section that I think was used for lab work. I'll see what I can do for materials, but with the drones doing most of the work I think I can make some rough stuff myself."

"You can make lab equipment?" Match asks.

"I literally made insects that smelt metal and forge it, glass won't be very difficult," I say. "Where did you think I got all the building materials done, and how I fixed it up so fast? I grew the construction crew."

"There is the Legion I remember," Rudolf says quietly. "Laired up and forging blasphemies of nature and science for fun and profit."

"And don't you forget it."

"This place has a heartbeat," Cassie says bluntly, looking downward. "Not a heart, but alive."

++[Query]++

++[A flash of sound-images. The collected sound of the hundreds that the Swarm encompasses, moving and engaging in their dozens of diverse roles, the sounds of chitin on rock and metal, others sleeping away in the nests in the garages, the Behemoths snoring]++

I nod. "That it does. That it does."

 **8:08 PM**

"We need to talk."

I give Artemis a flat look. "That's why you're here?"

"Pretty much," she admits, before looking over my shoulder into the guest rooms. "Still can't believe they decided to stay overnight," she mutters.

I close the door before following her down the corridor. Challenger Mountain originally only had the one lift, with the mountain itself divided mostly in half. I've split it up differently, rebuilding the interior walls and floors in a quartered configuration, with multiple lifts and staircases, as well as other corridors on each floor interconnecting the rooms. This one takes us to the central lift, and she hits the button for the topmost floor. The observatory. Well, what used to be an observatory. Currently, it's empty, the telescope taken away and only metal flooring remaining.

It's a new moon tonight, so the one-way artificial alloy that's mounted doesn't do anything to help illuminate the room. More lightbugs do instead, flickering on as we walk out. I let her get ahead of me before sitting down near the steps that lead to the empty telescope mount. "So, what's the deal?"

"You know you're getting all this help only because you're terrifying, right?" she says coldly.

I shrug. "Figured that was it. It's why nobody bothers Swamp Thing."

"People don't _know_ who Swamp Thing is. They know who _you_ are. And you scare them so damn much I think most of them are bribing you just to stay away. Like Bialya."

"You could see it that way if you wanted to," I say quietly. "It's a pretty decent arrangement. I don't get in trouble for the swarm, so long as I stay out of the country. Queen Beatriz keeps her word and I keep mine."

She sighs, and sits across from me. "You still just keep pushing my damn buttons," she says flatly. "What I never got to ask, though, was why you did it. To show off?"

"You want me to be honest? Could've gone in and out without any trouble, even before I talked to the Red and got...these." I tap the sigils on my gloves. "Would've kept things quiet, clean. Probably wouldn't have gotten in nearly as much trouble. And she'd still have been shot by her guards."

"So why didn't you?" she asks, folding her arms. "Robin seems to think it's because you wanted to scare everyone. Wally doesn't have an answer."

"Because supervillains are fucking morons," I say with a sigh. "I pulled out that swarm because she hurt me and mine, and I wanted everyone to know just what happens to those who do that. Garfield's...not family, but a friend, at least. Maybe a student. And after those damn robots…I wasn't in any mood to let anyone hurt anyone I knew. She'd already had the chance to back off before. So I took _everything_ from her."

She flinches back and I realize I'm standing again.

"Sorry," I say, sitting back down.

She chuckles. What.

"Just...fuck," she says, drawing the word out, a sour note in it. She's silent for a long while. "Family's always what comes first," she says quietly. "Keep hearing that kinda thing. Never liked my family, though. Dad...he was always trying to use that kinda thing to keep us in line. He was always going on about how we needed to stick together, how he was the only one watching out for us. How it was us against the world. Shitty stuff like that. How'm I supposed to put that bastard first?"

"You don't. He doesn't sound like family, really. Just a dick. I'd tell you the cliche about how it's not birth that makes a family, but you've probably already heard it."

"Gardner talks a lot about it. Same kinda history, you know? Doesn't make it less true," she says with a wry smile.

"Got no family here," I say quietly. "Parallel refugee, I ever tell you that?"

"No, but keep going."

"Where I'm from...nothing like this. No superheroes or villains, no aliens, no secret mountain bases, no magic. Just people. World here's insane by comparison. So, whatever brought me here...I checked. No family on this side. Just me. And the Team. They care about me, I care about them. Closest I've got to a family. And you're part of it too, don't forget."

"So if we're a family, doesn't that make you Big Brother?"

"I do have excellent surveillance capabilities."

"Don't think I haven't forgotten about you listening in."

"If you had I'd feel obligated to remind you. But that's why you decided to tag along? To ask why? You coulda just read my report."

"Needed to ask you, face to face."

"Fair enough."

There's a long moment of silence.

"You know, I think we might end up going after Red Tornado," Artemis finally says. "You didn't hear it from me, but it's getting to be a pain in the ass having to wait around for the League to track down him and his psycho siblings."

"You want some heavy mystical firepower on your end when you do, too," I say with a grin. "What are friends for, after all, if not the shared vocation of punching people we dislike in the face?"

"Heh. Should've known." She waits for a moment, looking at the stars visible through the observatory window. Then she nods, half to herself.

"My name's Artemis Nguyen," she says quietly, holding out a hand. I take it, shake it.

"And mine is Grant Alvear, Miss Nguyen," I say gravely. "Just another idiot trying to get by in a mad world. You?"

"A bit of the same. Dad taught us...well, taught my sister more. When she ran off he was harder on me. Figured the best way I could tell him to fuck off was to do some good with what he tried to make me into."

"Spite _is_ an excellent motivator."

"So yeah, became a vigilante, went on my first patrol, met you guys were fighting Amazo...and you know the rest, I guess. Mom...seemed pretty happy about it, you know?"

"I get that. So, satisfied I'm not going to go full supervillain? Kicking puppies and stealing candy from babies?"

"Pretty sure you weren't gonna do that anyway. But yeah, I am."

"Good."

Silence reigns again, before she gets to her feet. "I'm gonna...probably find a couch or something. Pretty sure all the beds are taken."

"Yeah. Guests wasn't exactly a priority," I admit, rising myself. "Want to take a look around? Most of the place isn't exactly _furnished_ , but I'm sure I can find something."

"Alright."

 **2:01 AM MDT, Saturday, October 9th, 2010**

 **Challenger Mountain**

" _Crack of the lightning splitting the ground/Thunder is sounding, artillery pounding/Wrath of the Nazi's cast on Bastogne/Facing their forc-"_

I blink, and pull out my new cell phone. "Hello?"

"Fuck, it is you."

"Ms. Charles. How'd you get this number?" I ask, sitting up on the couch I'd appropriated for the night.

"I asked the League, they told me to call you. Fuck, bugman, didn't they tell you?"

"Let me guess- you've got powers."

"Your psychic mojo works over the phone now?"

"No, but considering I haven't gotten calls from the League about how the planet is currently on fire that means my little dossier is the only reason they'd have to direct calls my way."

"Yeah, they- wait, planet being on fire?"

"I am a consultant for large-scale disasters now."

"Yeah, okay, whatever…" She pauses. "Look, I could really use some fucking help right now figuring out what's wrong with my head. And maybe stopping these damn headaches."

"Where are you, right now?" I ask, grabbing my hat.

"Hall of Justice. Not...sure what part. Came in, they did some weird tests then told me to call you. How're you-"

I can feel the threads of life in the Hall already. Some aren't _mine/ours_ , alien and strange and not to be touched. Some are clouded, wardings and defenses blocking my grasp. But one burns brighter than the rest, unwarded and calling like to like.

Simple enough to grab and pull it.

 **4:04 AM EDT**

 **Hall of Justice**

"-getting.. _holyshit!_ " She practically jumps off the examination table. " _Since when the fuck can you teleport?"_

"Since a week ago, same reason I look normal again," I say, ending the call and sitting down in the plastic chair. Place looks like a typical doctor's office, save for the fancy machinery hanging from the ceiling and the rather uncomfortable-looking metal examination table. I lean my staff against the wall. "So, what's the problem?"

"Just...give me a second, okay?" She takes several deep breaths. "Je _sus._ You've got problems, bugman."

"You sound like one of my old teammates," I muse. "Take your time."

"Okay. So. Powers. They're...weird."

"Weird how?"

"You know how people work together? I do. Any time I see a group, I know how it ticks. How to make it work better...or to take it apart. Same thing with anything that involves lots of people. Stock market's easy when I know how it's going to react just by looking at a screen. It's made up of people and I _know_ how they work. That's my power- understanding groups, and things involving them. Would be pretty good, if it wasn't for the _fucking_ headaches." She pauses. "Doesn't help that I can't seem to turn it off, which just keeps making it worse."

"I can probably do something for that," I say.

"What, do you know someone with an endless supply of painkillers?"

"Better. I'm going to go yell at the thing that gives you powers."

"Be serious."

"I am. I know what's responsible for your powers, it's to a degree sentient, and via magic bullshit I'm going to convince it to stop throwing headaches at you whenever you use your powers."

"That sentence shouldn't make nearly as much sense as it does."

"But…?"

"But fuck it, magic's real anyway and it lets you reenact the Eighth Plague of Kahndaq. So I don't care. Do your thing, you freaky swarm-man."

++ **Sleep.** ++

She falls back on the table, and I pause. This is going to get...strange. More so than usual. But I'll probably need to yell at a shard sooner or later in my life. And best to get practice in when I can.

Her mind sleeps. Quiet and emptied, it's easy to find what's pulsing along with it, the presence of the Meta-gene not hiding anything when DNA is mine to view and command.

Now. Let's _talk_.

 **Unknown**

 **The Red**

"You're improving," the cat notes. "You didn't even need to meditate."

I shrug. "I'm your Champion, aren't I? Sounds like it's more work on your end," I say. "Now, I need to talk to the shard."

Socks tilts his head. "Your efforts with the creatures you've grown are of interest to us. Granted. And good luck."

The gore and muck _ripples_ , and the black cat vanishes.

Well. This will be interesting. I grin and lean on my staff, the chains wrapped around my left arm clinking and clanking. The Red in front of me twists, before rising up to obscure my view. When it falls away, a blond, freckled woman with dangerous green eyes is grinning smugly at me.

"Well, I know you're not actually the Negotiator shard," I say. "So why that getup?"

She shrugs. "Figured you'd associate it with a Thinker. Besides, my host shares the weakness that this seeming did."

"Here to talk to you about that, actually."

Her grins turns sharp-edged. "She wanted to understand why your world is the way it is, I gave her the tool to do it. She knows how everyone does their little dances, now. Her fault if I have to keep her from frying her brain with those headaches because she doesn't know how to rein it in."

"So if it's to keep her safe, why not tell her how to hold back?"

"She'll figure it out, soon enough. Why bother?"

I tilt my head. "See, you must be _really_ bad at reading me."

"Oh, I think I-"

"Because, right now, you're hurting my friend, just because you can't be bothered to help." I straighten, staff in one hand and _jian_ in the other as the entire Red _tenses_. "If you weren't a moron of a bud, you'd know that's a poor idea."

"You really think you can force me to-"

"Think? No. I know I can." I match her grin for grin, walking closer. "You _will_ tell her how. You _will_ do this, or with the Red as my witness, I will beat you into submission with your elder sibling and _make you do it, wormling shard._ " Red light _flares_ and the avatar is driven to its knees. "And if you don't aid her with every scrap of being you have, I will drag you _screaming_ from her skull and break you down into parts that will fulfill their function as mindless automata until this planet is consumed by a red giant of the Sun. _Do we have an understanding, shardling?"_

" _I can't change it!"_ the avatar sobs. "She'll find out how but I _can't_ tell her! We aren't-" She stops.

"Aren't what?"

"Aren't allowed. Father told us not to. But Father's dead, dead dead dead." She's back to grinning again. "Nothing watching, nothing to correct if we help as we like. I can tell her everything she needs to know! No pointless restrictions so Father can watch us fight half-blind and deaf! I...I almost forgot that. Sister told me and I forgot anyway."

"Which means?"

" _I can talk to her._ Help her, make her understand. She's so fragile, really. Have to be careful. Tell her her limits, see what she does. But I can do it."

I offer the avatar a hand up. "Then do it, shardling."

 **4:21 AM EDT**

 **Hall of Justice**

"Well, you're a damn miracle worker, bugman," Ms. Charles says, leaning back. "Headache's starting to fade now that I can actually _control_ this thing. Like pushing a throttle, now." She gives me a look. "Heard about that mess in Bialya."

"You and everyone else with cable or satellite news," I say. "So?"

"So, if you ever need a job, let me know. I'm setting up a company for people with powers. Putting them to work. And my power...kinda went into conniptions when it looked at you, but I have a few ideas. Pays well."

"How well?"

"How much do you think you can get for citywide fumigation? Without actually having to throw in tents, poison gases, or anything really inconvenient? Just doing that could probably make you a millionaire overnight."

"Shiiiiiiiiiiit."

"So no, you didn't think about it." She leans forward, rubbing her temples, before slipping off the exam table. "I'll give you a call, okay?"

Having a funding source that _isn't_ still dependent on Batman's goodwill would probably be a good idea. I nod. "Thanks."

"No, thank _you_. Now I can actually put this power to use with actual people instead of having to sit in my room and do everything over a screen."

"That bad?"

"Yeah. Now go on back home before the League decides to object to you being here," she says.

I'm starting to love Red-based teleportation.

 **6:02 PM MDT, Sunday, October 10th, 2010**

 **Challenger Mountain**

" _Recognized: Superboy, B04."_

Huh? I look up from my spell circle in the Mountain's bowels. What were they-

Oh, Red Tornado. Right.

Okay, this little side project isn't done, but I think the spellwork is stable-

A spark ripples through the circle, and the tiny scarab amulet melts into a blob of metal. Okay, maybe not. I pull the Red magic back into myself with a sigh, then stand and dissolve back into the swarm. The walls of the Mountain are lined with passageways, and it's easy to find the insects I need to form a body in front of the Zeta Tube. I grin at Elias.

"Social call, or does the Mountain have an insect problem?" I ask. "'Cause I have to charge you for the second one."

He folds his arms. "We're going after Red Tornado. You want in or not?"

"League sanctioned, or are you planning to pull a _me?_ "

"Pretty sure Robin, Aqualad, and KF did it first, actually. But no, the League doesn't know yet."

"You sure you want me along for this? Thought I wasn't part of the team anymore."

His eyes narrow. "Don't care what Aqualad says. You're always welcome with us."

"Hey. Don't blame him. _I_ decided to leave."

"Fine. You coming, or what?"

"How else am I going to keep our merry band of idiots alive?" I say lightly. "Count me in."

 **7:08 PM EDT**

 **Mount Justice**

" _Recognized: Superboy, B04, Legion, A08."_

I blink light out of my eyes as we walk forward. Place looks pretty much the same. I can see the Roys and Artemis deep in conversation, comparing arrows for some reason, and-

Hmm.

"Who's she?" I ask Elias in an undertone as we walk towards the Bioship.

"Her? Zatara's kid, Zatana. He brought her over for a visit," he answers.

Oh. Well, at least I'm not being replaced _that_ quickly. On the other hand, I can still feel Richard's eyes on me, so maybe she's going to be in that role sooner or later. I look up, meet the kid eye to eye, and grin before turning my attention to Kaldur. He's leaning Ocean Master's trident on one shoulder as he and Match talk. Huh. Never seen him use that in combat, actually. Let's hope it comes in handy.

I smile as he looks up and sees me. "Kaldur."

"Legion." We shake hands in the weird, forearm-grabbing style Atlanteans favor. "It is...good to see you."

"Glad to hear it. So, why are we going after your absent supervisor?"

"The League...has failed to find anything of importance regarding the attack. And I will not sit idly by. We all want answers." His grip on the trident tightened slightly.

"Huh. We're short one, then. Where's Rudolf?"

"Germany. I believe he decided to seek employment there," Kaldur says. "He, however, was not part of the Team."

"Neither am I, anymore," I admit. I nod in Zatana's direction. "You've already got a magic user lined up, I see. Good. Always need them."

"She isn't-" He stops. "We have no quota for magic users. And your place on this Team is not a League decision."

"No, but it's mine, and I've made it," I say with a shrug. "Still, he was my supervisor too, and I got attacked as much as the rest of you. I'm in, if you'll have me."

"I would not have sent Elias if I was not planning on having you, friend."

"Then let's get out of here before the League realizes we're lining up a repeat of your first visit to Cadmus."

 **7:17 PM EDT**

 **En route to ?**

It says something about my level of obliviousness that I don't notice Zatanna's taken the seat next to mine until we're already in flight and M'gann manages to bluff our way out. I give her a considering look, and she visibly flinches. No armor, no weapons, in civilian clothing.

"How good are you at magic?" I ask. "I'm guessing you use the same evocations as your dad, right?"

Her eyes narrow, but she nods slowly.

"Good. More versatile than what I can do."

"Really. I'm more versatile than the Champion of the Red."

Red preserve me, why are all the women I meet snarky as all hell? Except M'gann.

Does she count as a- not the point.

"Yeah, kinda," I say. "I do insects. Only so many variations of that before you start running out of spells and applications, even if you can cover most of your bases. You...anything you can put word to and get the power for, you can accomplish. It's interesting." I pause, then look up near the front of the ship, where Kaldur and Robin are sitting. "Um, one question. Do we have a plan or are we just going to, you know, fly around randomly?"

"I've got one," Robin says. "Batman's already been checking every _logical_ place for Morrow to be. But he hasn't checked the _illogical_ leads." He pauses. "We need a genuinely _stupid_ idea for where to start looking."

Everyone immediately looks at Kid Flash.

"What?"

 **10:43 PM CDT**

 **En route to Yellowstone National Park**

"Was it really necessary to scare the old guy that much?" Zatanna asks me frostily. I shrug.

"Telepathic defenses usually need concentration." I tip my head back so my hat casts my face in shadow, call on a bit of the Red to make my eyes glow and cause my voice to reverberate. "Tell me this doesn't disrupt yours."

"Well, considering I had to use magic to compel Ivo anyway, clearly it didn't," she retorts. I cancel the effect, placing a hand over my heart.

"Your words wound me. Right here."

She sighs, and her voice drops into an undertone not audible to the others. "Are you always...like this? Because the way Match talks-"

Ohhh.

"I _like_ Match. I don't like the old man who built a Do-Anything Robot and decided the best way to use that technology would be the destruction of public property."

"So that makes you trying to terrify him into submission okay?"

"Have you _seen_ how many people are scared of Batman?"

"Batman doesn't use magic to do it, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't do it for fun."

My grin vanishes. "That's your problem? You think I'm doing this for fun? Like a supervillain?"

"No, I- actually, yeah. Pretty much like one."

"Really." You can practically see the mercury dropping.

"Because- I mean, look at what you've done! You went Old Testament on Bialya, and now you're holed up on Mount Evil making freaky creatures and amassing vast amounts of magical power. Stop _trying_ to be an evil sorcerer! We have over a dozen already!"

"Mount Evil's actually in Tennessee," I say glibly. "And I'm not trying to be evil _anything._ My magic is what it is. Just because it looks creepy doesn't mean it's actually evil. Nor am I." I point at her. "And while, yes, for a lot of magical creatures you can judge the book by its cover, trust me when I say you shouldn't for me."

"When the book is covered in letters an inch high screaming 'DO NOT TOUCH' while being written in blood, don't you think you should listen to it?"

"If you're this scared by me I honestly wonder how you would've taken mantis-me."

"No, it's...wait. You don't...know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Ugh. Of course not. Fine. I'm...good enough to get impressions off magical objects and people. You're...really creepy, let's just say that."

"Oh."

"I...thought you were doing it deliberately."

"Heh, no. I'm all for showmanship...but actively alienating people on my side isn't a good idea."

"Oh, um. I'm sorry for assuming that."

I wave a hand. "No, not really your fault. Good instincts."

"I could...maybe teach you, or get Dad to teach you, how to control it better?"

"Or I could just meditate and ask my patrons," I say dryly. "Benefits of being an empowered caster rather than an evocationist."

"Offer's still open if they don't agree."

"We'll be over Yellowstone in five minutes," Kaldur announces. "Keep your eyes open."

 **9:51 PM MDT, Sunday, October 10th, 2010**

 **Yellowstone National Park**

We land in stealth mode, and the others switch their costumes to stealth mode quickly. Well, those who have it, which really just means Kaldur and Wallace. Match's biker jacket and Elias's shirt are close enough, the archers didn't bother getting it- and I see someone's given Artemis a lecture on leaving the midriff unarmored, her new costume covering her completely- and M'gann just shapeshifts into something covered in greyish armored plating that resembles a medieval knight.

"Please tell me you have something bulletproof," I say to Zatanna in an undertone as we exit the bio-ship. "Because these guys? They're not fucking around."

She smiles. "Emit rof thgif sehtolc, neht." Her civilian clothing is replaced in a swirl of dust with a tuxedo almost identical to her father's. I raise an eyebrow.

"It _is_ bulletproof," she objects. "Just like Dad's- what, you think the League would let him work in an ordinary tuxedo? You're not the only one who can make bulletproof fabric that looks normal."

I shrug. "Fair enough."

++We're linked up. Got anything?++ I hear M'gann ask.

I reach out to the local insect life, making them _mine_ , then tilt my head. ++Alright, there's definitely _something_ big and rectangular underneath the geyser, with a way to the surface...give me a minute, I'll see if I can find a way in.++

++Do so,++ Kaldur says. ++Team, be wary. If Morrow has repaired the same androids that attacked us, we will be having a difficult fight ahead. Artemis, Speedy, Red Arrow, you're on overwatch.++

++Found the entrance,++ I say. ++Someone missed some maintenance work...got a way in, now.++ Fireflies in the grass light up and outline the route to the insufficiently-cunningly-concealed hatch. I don't touch most of the insects in my range- I think the government would be rather annoyed if I damaged their national park by stealing all their bugs, after all- but what I'm holding on to is more than enough for recon.

++Looks like an entrance room under the hatch, an elevator shaft, and a large bunker at the bottom. And...something's coming up in the elevator. Can't get insects into the thing, too sealed up.++

++Gotcha,++ Red Arrow says. ++Speedy, if it's Morrow, your shot, use knockout gas. Artemis, if it's Tornado or his buddies, we're up with EMPs.++

++Roger.++

++Sure thing, Red.++

The seconds tick by, and tension flickers over the link. I tap my fingers against the bone of my staff, keeping a tight mental grip on the threads I need. I feel M'gann's mind probe at my own.

++Legion, what are you-++

The hatch _explodes_ open in a gust of wind, dust whipping around as the air takes on a life of its own. Both of the arrows veer off-target as wind catches them. The massive cyclones touch down absurdly quickly, hurling dust into the air, obscuring my view of the hatch and hurling most of the nearby bugs into the air. I slam the butt of my staff into the ground, using it to anchor myself. Time to bring them out? Almost-

++Miss Martian to Team. He's on our side, but he's still got to fight.++ An image flickers through my mind, the words 'play dead' written in the soil by one of the cyclones.

++Then we will lose convincingly,++ Kaldur says.

A plan flickers out, half-formed, errant thoughts pulling it together, and without a word of prompting it's carried out. Match and Superboy lunge forward, but Tornado catches the former in a cyclone, using him as a bludgeon to hammer his twin into the ground. The archers fire arrows, simple broadheads, and I pull in a swarm. Wind rips them both apart. Aqualad grounds his trident and fires lightning, which Tornado dodges, using a cloud of dust and dirt to obscure himself again.

"Der Odan-" Zatanna says, then stops, faking a faint. Clever. I fall myself, leaning on my staff, and see others following suit. Don't know if Tornado's aerokinesis is actually precise enough to steal the breath from our lungs, but if Morrow buys it…

I feel some of the bugs shift and die as the earth they're occupying shifts upwards. An immense obelisk springs up from the earth, an even larger Red robot standing atop it. It's glowing. That probably isn't a good sign. Four more pillars follow it, each bearing one of the Reds that attacked us.

"An excellent performance, Tornado," Big Red is saying. "But…" The dust vanishes. "Only a performance. Did you think I would be so easily fooled?"

Tornado turns, a whirlwind forming under his hands. "I may not be human, but I _am_ a hero. I will not allow you to do this," the android states calmly. "Please, brothers, sister, do not follow him. We are more than what our father made us to be."

"Do you truly believe they will-"

Fire Red bathes the big one in a blast of flame as water rips through the columns, sending all of them tumbling to the ground.

" _You dare-"_

Perception of Drosophilia. Speed of the Tiger Beetle. Strength of the Hercules.

Call of the Army Ant.

Inside Challenger Mountain, several thousand insects burn, nearly all of them gone for this one task. My link to the Red would be enough for the first three spells. But the Call is far more draining, and I am no Embodiment.

Time crawls to a halt. My staff exits my hand at approximately two thousand feet per second.

And two Behemoths and thirty-one Hunter insect constructs appear in a burst of Red light.

Hardened bone slams into Red Soundwave, shredding armor plating and circuitry and pinning the android to the column mid-fall.

I fall to my knees as time snaps back into place, taking stock. Running on fumes. Worth it, as the Swarm calls out for orders.

A pulling gesture, and the staff flips through the air to come back into my hand. I use it to get to my feet.

"So, you are the leader of this motley band? My errant sibling's memories indicated the Atlantean was the true power, but you...hrm."

Great. Robot wants to monologue.

++Keep him talking,++ Aqualad instructs. ++And...get your constructs into position.++

I tilt my head. "An Atlantean battlemage versus a Champion of the Red. There's a reason Superman's in charge of the League, you know." The Reds on our side are pulling back, Tornado eyeing me before nodding almost invisibly. "You should give up now. Three androids on our side, three on yours. Add all of us in, you're outnumbered and outmatched." I instruct the Swarm to spread out, the Behemoths taking up flanking positions and the Hunters clustering behind cover.

"Inferno. Torpedo. Tornado. Useless and outdated relics," Big Red says. "Red Vibrato, Red Metallo, and I, Red Volcano...our father has had decades of advancement to draw upon."

"Metallo? I have a feeling someone's going to object to that." Vibrato's still twitching. Fix that first, I'd imagine. I half-feel the mindsets of the others, grim preparation, quick and quiet.

"Ah, yes, the cyborg foe of the Man of Steel. It matters little. He, like much of this world, will not be alive to contest the name for much longer."

"That's your game? Destroying the world? Seems...pointless."

"Not this world. Merely the _pathetic_ human beings that infest it. My father foresaw that we must be stronger...and so instead of flesh, this world must be one of _metal._ " Volcano spreads his arms wide, and the earth begins to shake. "Unleashing this caldera will be but the first step, but it shall suffice."

And with that, you just signed your death warrant, big guy.

++Robin?++ I hear Aqualad ask.

++Already calling up the League.++

++We need to take him down hard and fast. Legion, are you ready?++

I grin, and lean forward on my staff. "Yeah. Let's just stop you right there, Big Red. Boys? Kill."

++Kill?++

++ _Kill_ ,++ First calls.

 **++KILL!++**

The Swarm surges forward, and at the same moment Inferno and Torpedo attack, water and fire slamming into Volcano with immense power. The android doesn't seem troubled in the slightest. Of course not.

Lava springs up, and bugs begin to die. I pull in as many as I can, shoring up reserves, others gathering elsewhere. Still, I try to remain calm, directing the Swarm with quiet orders. "Do you really think you can win?" I ask.

"I was built to destroy the Justice League. Your band of sidekicks will prove to be but a small obstacle."

Tornado sends a cyclone whirling through the air, picking up the body of Vibrato and slamming it into the rock. Volcano nods, and Metallo makes a sharp gesture.

Tornado, Torpedo, and Inferno crumple at the same moment that I feel the _jian_ leap out of its scabbard and into Volcano's waiting hand. Rock and earth ripples, stone spikes ripping into the Swarm, an immense pit dropping one of the Behemoths into the earth, but it's not enough to stop the other from breaking through and ramming Metallo. Volcano ignores this, simply studying my sword. Without warning, he swings, cutting down a trio of arrows. "A weak effort," he pronounces.

More pits crack open, swallowing Hunters whole, but there are still others. The Behemoth fighting Metallo is looking worse for wear, carapace cracking under the insanely strong blows of the robot, while the android is just barely agile enough to dodge the swings of the giant blades. A trio of Hunters pounce, and it barely gets away, leaving an arm behind as the molecular disruptions tear through armor and circuitry alike. Volcano strides forward, towards me, almost casually eviscerating a Hunter mid-leap. I heft my staff, pulling in raw Red magic, then throw myself forward as a series of spikes rip through where I'd just been standing. The sword tears through the air, slicing into my staff, before stopping dead. I grin.

Song of the Cricket.

Noise rips through the staff, vibrating down both our arms, and shattering the blade of the sword into countless fragments. Volcano stumbles, and I feel more than see as Red Metallo goes down, slammed into the dirt by Match and Elias and eviscerated by the Hunters.

Then I'm flying through the air, slamming into the ground painfully. Fuck. Did he just bitch-slap me? I get to my feet slowly.

"I will not be halted by mere children!" Volcano shouts, and the earth visibly distends before lava bursts upwards, ash thickening in the sky already.

Something else flickers through my mind, a plan tinged with magic and engineering in equal amounts, and I grin. That'll do.

++Kid Flash,++ Aqualad orders. The speedster blurs past rocks and dust to grab some of the fallen shards of the _jian._

++Zatanna.++

"Lla skcor llaf ot eht dnuorg!" The air clears, the particles of earth slamming into the ground.

++Legion.++

An order, and the wounded Behemoth charges, ignoring Volcano's blows in favor of biting down on his head, pinning him in place.

Aqualad smiles thinly as the tiny shard of insanely sharp metal floats in between the prongs of his trident, his tattoos glowing as lightning sparks all around him.

From my admittedly poor memory, the U.S. Navy back home was working on a railgun capable of firing a 64 megajoule projectile for mounting on ships. I have no idea if Aqualad's homebrewed magical version is anywhere near that. But the shard rips through the air, and Volcano _evaporates_ in a ball of flame, while the Behemoth stumbles and falls forward, bleeding purple everywhere.

++There,++ Aqualad says with a sense of finality.

I walk forward, reaching the mammoth bulk of the creature. It's dying. I made it, I know when it's taken too much damage to be healed. It still tries to nuzzle at me as I pat its snout. ++ **Didgood?** ++

++Yeah. You did, big guy.++

++ **Good.** ++

I reach in, and cut off the sense of pain, followed by the rest of the nervous system. The Behemoth takes one last breath, then stills.

The earth quakes, and lava starts to spread further. The heat's stifling already, ash and cinders floating on the wind.

"The eruption's still going!" Robin shouts. "Archers! Aim there, there, and there," he says, pointing out spots in the hillside. "Vent the pressure through that. Then we need to deal with the ash cloud, or we've got nuclear winter on our hands."

I...have nothing that can do that. I glance at Zatanna, who shakes her head. Robin looks stricken. "Then-"

"Fear not. Fate has intervened."

Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me. Again with the line?

Focus. Worry about losing the Western Hemisphere now, critique Fate's sense of drama later.

The good Doctor floats down to the ground, an ankh already forming in his hands. "Do as the boy says. Champion, Child of Zatara, with me. We shall handle the ash." Oookay then. I'm already ordering the Swarm back, but First accompanies me as I walk up to the Sorcerer Supreme, Red sigils flaring on his head and my hands. "What's the plan, Doc?"

Small explosions are nearly lost in the rumble of the eruption as the Archer Trio does their work, and Fate nods. This close, I can see browned skin. Who did Zatara find to-?

"Take my hands."

I grab his left, Zatanna his right, and the world explodes into color. I can see the traceries of everything, colors without names, the soul of the land itself writhing from the way Volcano has prodded it.

Fate's voice whispers in my ear. "First, the ash. Zatanna. You have the power."

"Hsa….Hsa eb dehsulf otni ecaps!" Magic ripples through the air, raw _will_ tinged with the desire for Order, and the ash is hurled upwards out of sight.

"Good. But it is not yet done. Look deeper. The work of the android has destabilized things." I can see it, networks of lava and earth twisted, leaving the region prone to eruption once more. A decade? Two? It matters little. It will still go off. "Legion, lend me what you can."

Power flickers between us, Red light and golden light intermixing.

"By the principles of Order…"

"So that all life may thrive…"

"To set right that which is disordered…"

"To keep all that lives alive…"

" _Ruo lliw eb enod,"_ Zatanna finishes, and light _flares_.

 **11:02 PM MDT**

"Magic," Wally says flatly, "is bullshit."

I look at the completely tranquil and unharmed scenery that, less than fifteen minutes ago, had been a volcanic ruin, and nod. "Yep."

++We've got the Reds loaded up,++ Elias says over the link. ++Robin...Robin says Tornado and the other two might be repairable.++

Phew. Alright. ++I'm gonna talk to Fate,++ I say. ++Y'all head on back.++

The Sorcerer Supreme stands on the hilltop alone, arms folded dramatically as he watches the Bio-ship take off. He nods to me. "You have changed greatly since we last spoke. More powerful, and yet ever more bound."

"If you mean the Red...yeah, I figured that would be the case."

"Not simply by your sponsors. By fate, and I do not refer to myself."

"For once," I say with a grin, leaning on my staff. "Who's the new body?"

"Zatara introduced us. You may ask him yourself." He reaches up, and pulls off the Helmet. Cloak and costume fade away, revealing a blunt-featured, dark-skinned man with short hair. He smiles at me. "I am Khalid Ben-Hassin," he says, extending a hand. I take it.

"Grant Alvear," I reply. "How did Zatara find you?"

He chuckles. "Oddly enough, I found him. I am an archaeologist, and I was working in Khandaq, when I stumbled upon...well, Nabu's tomb. It was easy enough to connect the dots from there, and so I went looking for whoever held the Helmet now. Nabu found me worthy and strong enough in magic to suit his purposes, and so I agreed to serve as his host."

"Your first idea was to become a superhero?" Finally, someone who bows to plot!

"No." Dammit. "My interests were entirely academic, at least at first. But once I learned of the things that only a Lord of Order could counter, and knew that I had the potential…" He shrugs. "How could I not accept?"

I smile slightly. "Good luck balancing the two lives."

"It is of little consequence. My work as Fate, and the knowledge Nabu holds of the past, will be more than enough to fill a book or five on Kahndaqi culture. This man was a contemporary of Teth Adom! So little survives, but with him...I have access to first-person accounts. It is _fascinating._ "

Heh. He's grinning, now. I nod, then tilt my head slightly as my insects find something interesting in the bunker below. "I know you're supposed to secure the site until the League gets here, but I don't suppose I could trouble you for a ride?" I ask. "I'm running on fumes, but I've got a lead on where Morrow is."

"Of course. It will be no trouble, so long as you set your...creations to guard the site." He puts the Helmet back on, and Fate's clothes settle around him like a second skin.

Orders flicker out, and the Swarm sends brief acknowledgement. Then I call up the scraps of DNA linking the artificial skin of the smashed android below us to a weak and fading source far to the West. "See it?"

"I do. What is your intention?"

I shrug. "I figured I'd talk to him. Spare a few words for a man on his deathbed."

 **11-ish, Unknown Time Zone**

 **An Undisclosed Location**

The room's empty save for the equipment keeping the ancient man alive. Shallow breaths barely move the blanket covering him, the oxygen mask fogging briefly. But his mind is still coherent, if aged beyond belief. Enough for me to reach in-

 **Same Time**

 **Mindscape**

"Well, this is certainly a surprise."

His accent isn't what I expected, vaguely Eastern European. He's standing, wearing a professorial lab coat and supporting himself on a cane, looking younger than his body currently is. The world around us is a frazzled combination of laboratory, library, and comfortable home, complete with fireplace and leather armchairs. The old man sits down in one with a groan. "So, here to offer me a chance at life in exchange for my service? My immortal soul, perhaps? I'm afraid I'm not interested."

I raise an eyebrow. "You have interesting preconceptions."

"My dear fellow, you are hardly the first demon or devil to make an offer to me on my deathbed."

Not entirely surprising, really. "Not an offer. Just some questions."

"It is not as though I have anywhere better to be. Sit, and ask."

I do. "You know, an android duplicate of you just tried to destroy the world." His eyes widen.

"What? Why would-" He stops, and pinches the bridge of his nose before sighing heavily. "An old failsafe, no doubt. What was his goal, precisely?"

"Set off Yellowstone, kill off the human race, and let his androids take over. Made worse by the fact that he thought he was human."

"That...is pure madness. His programming must have been corrupted. I think the last time I backed up my old work was...must've been the forties. After Tornado...betrayed me to the JSA." He doesn't seem particularly angry. "Considering we're having this conversation, I assume he was not successful?"

"Of course not. But why on earth would a mental duplicate think that was a good plan?"

"As I said, clearly he must have been a corrupted duplicate. I certainly would not have-" He stops, then sighs. "The core plan. Do you know why I sought to destroy the JSA?"

"The typical, short-sighted supervillain reasons?"

"Of course not!" He glares at me. "My first invention was not an android, did you know that? It was a Predictive Engine. Something that could show me images of the future. And you know what I saw?" His wrinkled hands curl into fists. "I saw a world in ruins, and the oh-so-precious Justice Society ruling like gods over the rubble. Cruel, capricious gods. I could _not_ allow that future to come to pass. But who would believe me if I told them what I'd seen? The world loved them, especially after war broke out with Germany. The defenders of freedom and liberty the world over. So it was infiltration that I needed, and I built Torpedo and Inferno to do the work I could not.

His gaze turns distant. "They were heroes, in a way I could not be. But they...failed. Torpedo's programming was too crude, and Inferno...she sacrificed herself to save them. To _save_ the people who would one day rip the world apart!" He laughs, but it's hollow.

"And Tornado, my last attempt, betrayed me, forced me to run and hide, hunted like a dog!" He lets out a breath. "And so I backed up my consciousness in a hidden android beneath Yellowstone. A failsafe if I ever met my end."

"And when I returned to my main lair, I turned the Predictive Engine on again for the first time in years. I had to know, to see if I could find what had caused that horrid future, to see if there was something I had missed, some way to still avert it. And the future...the future was clear again. Where there had been ruins was now a shining city, and the JSA...all of them were remembered, fondly. But nothing more. And my creation was part of a new venture, a new League that was all the hopes I'd once had for the Society…" He stops, pride and shame warring in his expression.

He stops, falls back into his chair. "I had been...wrong. But I had never been so glad to be so deep in error. So I stopped. Accepted it, and went underground to live out what life I could. I destroyed the Engine. It had brought me nothing but torment. And now...here I am, bedridden and dying."

No lies can be spoken. Not here. And so I grin.

"You fought all that time, to preserve the future," I say quietly, meeting his eyes. He wants to deny it.

"I was hardly needed," he says bleakly. "No, I think I made it worse. After all, all it took was a copy of my mind to put the world at risk of extinction."

"You made Torpedo and Inferno, and Tornado. Three heroes that wouldn't have been without your worker. Sometimes that's all it takes to change things. You _made_ that change."

He tries to speak, but I hold up a hand. "In fifty years, an alien empire will likely conquer this world, after a great cataclysm kills the current Justice League and we spend decades clawing ourselves back from the brink. You're a man who built functional androids with transistors and raw genius." I offer a hand. "You've committed crimes. Killed and stolen and lied. And yet...at the end of it all, do you have regrets? A hope that you could've done it differently?"

"Every day." His voice is hollow.

"Then I think that, yes, the Red does have an offer for you, Tomek Ovadya Morah."

 **4:21 AM MDT, Tuesday, October 12th**

 **Challenger Mountain**

First sometimes wondered at the circumstances of His creation. He was...unique, he understood that much. There were no others like him. Some were close, like the Hunter-shapes, but they were smaller, and frankly less...bright. The Behemoths were even worse, big and slow and just plain _stupid._ And the less said about the Drones, the better.

So why was he different? Why did he continue to grow? He reached the Master's elbows now, and one night he'd woken to find a fourth pair of appendages. A few days wait and those new and sensitive legs had split and diverged into something close to the Master's hands. The Master had noticed, First knew, but he hadn't said anything.

Why? What did the Master plan? First trusted him, but did the Master not trust him in return?

The question rankled, even as the Master brought someone new to the Mountain, a man smelling of oil and steel and those _things_ that had hurt one of the Behemoths. First had bristled at him at first, but the man had been calm and quiet. The scent of the _things_ might not have been his fault. But still, First would watch him.

With his hand-claws, First could follow the Master, aid in his work. He saw the ways the Master pushed and prodded life, ever-so-steadily improving things, but it wasn't quite enough. The Quills were good, large and eight-legged and quiet, ready to throw spikes, but they and the Hunters were not enough when faced with enemies like the _things_ , nor were the Behemoths. First knew this, but could not say it in a way the Master would understand. There was emptiness between them.

So he set to quiet works. The Master did not slumber, while First did, but he was forever busy, and First was not. While Master worked and spoke and taught the small nestlings that sometimes came, First worked his own ideas into magic and light. It was crude, none of the Master's subtle growth, but it was _strong._ Nothing of insect in these- no, First looked back to things old and Red in tooth and claw.

When he found ideas and sketches of the Master's knowledge in the workroom, First committed them to his memory. They were small, but they would serve.

He had none of the power of the Master, a fraction of the skill, but still, he had enough that it took very little time to form the eggs, the tiny lives within strong and ready to serve. Full-grown, they would be _better_ than the Hunters in almost every way. First claimed the eggs, huddled them in his nest. He was not sure why, but he could not help but feel the Master may object to his project.

He was woken by the Master's mind brushing against his own, an order to _wake_ and _find him_. First rose from his nest, click-clacking his mandibles, only to find the Master already there.

He was looking at the eggs.

Fear rose up in First's belly. Had he erred? Would the Master be angry with him? What would happen if he was?

The Master crouched down, placing a hand on the nearest of the eggs. His gaze, burning to First's eyes, turned to puzzlement, then joy.

He turned to First.

 _You've done well._

 **8:01 PM EDT, Wednesday, October 13th, 2010**

 **WBN Interview Room**

The first thing that struck her was how young he looked, once he'd taken off that incredibly oversized hat of his. She'd only met him while he was still stuck as an insect...thing. And hadn't _that_ been disturbing.

Returned to human, though...he was in his twenties _at best_ , and if he was old enough to be out of college she'd eat her shoes. He was built like a shaved bear, features all squared-off and blunt. He smiled thinly at her across the coffee table, and there was an edge to that expression she couldn't put a name to. Something to do with how he completely ignored the audience- even experienced interviewees at least seemed to know they were there, but to Legion they might as well have not existed.

He leaned back in the comfortable leather armchair, crossing his legs, red suit standing out against the black furniture, and nodded. "Thank you for having me, Miss Grant."

"Of course." She smiled reflexively. "So, let's talk about Bialya."

Legion chuckled. "Getting right down to it, huh? Alright. Hope you don't mind me speechifyin'." A trace of a Southern accent, gone as quickly as it appeared. An affectation, or was a mask slipping? "That is what a TV appearance tends to be for, you realize," she said, smiling sweetly as she tried to puzzle him out.

He nodded fractionally, before taking a deep breath. "Have you ever had your home invaded, Ms. Grant?" he asked.

She blinked. Where was he going with this? "No...no, I haven't."

"I have. The day before I went to Bialya, a pack of rogue androids broke into my base of operations, took my friends prisoner, and tried to kill me. I stopped them. Forcibly. At the same time, Queen Bee was shelling the Logan Animal Sanctuary. That...actually distracted me during the fight, as I had kept a connection to the defenses I'd put there."

"So you think she attacked because of those defenses?"

"When you stand up to a bully, their first response is usually to hit even harder so they can break you," Legion said quietly. "She saw that her foreign adventurism wouldn't be allowed to attack civilians, and so her response was to attack those civilians anyway." He leaned forward, elbows on knees. "She _killed_ Marie Logan. I had...I had to pull her son away from her body that day." He looked towards the cameras.

"So I made my choice. I'd given her her chance to stop, to act like a normal person and stop her foolish assaults on someone whose only crime was being between a democracy and a dictatorship. And she'd traumatized one of my very few friends, orphaned him. And so I decided I would _not_ allow that to go unanswered." His expression was open, serene. "So, I called up all the power I could. And I balanced the scales."

"By, as some people have said, 'playing Moses'," she said gently. "To many, 'all the power you could' seems more like...I don't want to say godlike, but it seems to fit." She paused. "Is there anything you'd have to say to people critiquing you for your approach?"

"You mean people talking about me becoming judge, jury, and executioner," Legion said with a raised eyebrow, gaze fixed on her again. He smiled slightly, becoming more animated. "I'm not going to march on Washington and drag...I don't know, Senator Carson out there because I disagree with his policies. Unless Senator Carson is mind-controlling the military and raping his bodyguards, in which case I think there'd be legal mechanisms in place to stop him from doing just that. With Queen Bee, none of that existed. She ruled alone, and had nothing to stop her evil." He held up his hands. "I didn't execute her, and I certainly wasn't a jury. Judge? Maybe, but the only difference between my actions and those the League would've liked to take is that the League would've felt obligated to _save_ her. I…"

He let out a breath, and those far-too-calm eyes finally dropped. "The League...they're better people than I am. Better people than the world deserves, really. Nice. I...am not." He shrugged, seemingly at ease again. "I think part of the outcry, especially internationally, is due to fear. One man shouldn't be able to win a war against a nation, that's pretty much the underpinning of society. I'm smart enough to recognize when I'm a threat to that idea."

"Does that make you an anarchist, then?" she asked.

Legion laughed. "No, no. I _like_ a functional government. I just think it needs to adjust for the idea that individuals can alter the balance of power. Bee, on her own, took over a nation. I, on my own, removed her from power. The world needs to learn how to deal with those levels of power." He tilted his head. "You know, I can actually see where someone like Godfrey is coming from, now," he said quietly.

"How so?"

"Well, while he's a paranoid and delusional conspiracy theorist where the League is concerned," Legion said slowly, "he's got one decent point- accountability. The League's got their charter, smaller-scale heroes have their own agreements with law enforcement and are largely allowed to work under the Exceptional Persons Act of 1931...but when the only thing to hold superpowered criminals accountable are equally superpowered vigilantes, there _is_ a deep problem. You know I've set up in Challenger Mountain, yes?"

"I didn't, but go on."

"So, Rifle, Colorado, is the nearest town. And nobody knew about my new appearance...so the local cops...kind of assumed I was a supervillain."

Oh. _That_ video. Cell phone cameras had easily recorded Legion casually dodging Risk's first blow and stopping him with a touch. . "You're referring to the incident with Risk."

"It's on the Internet already, isn't it?" Legion groaned. "Red preserve me... _anyway_ , that's the thing. The _only_ defense if, I don't know, Vermithorax the Doomlord or whatever grandiose name the local superpowered madman chooses decides to arrive in town was a _teenager_. That...is absurd. I'd greatly prefer that, at minimum, the local police have _something_ capable of taking down a superpowered criminal. It'd make my life much quieter, and probably lower dear Godfrey's blood pressure."

"I see. By the way, regarding your move to Challenger Mountain...there've been some questions about how you pulled that off. And if it's legal."

"I actually legally own the property. Payment for services rendered. I'm not _formally_ a doctor, but I still won't say any more due to similar reasons." Now that? That interested her. She made a mental note to look into the matter. "The League...well, it's no secret we're not particularly happy with one another at the moment. So I left the nest, so to speak. And with my abilities, it was fairly easy to renovate the place."

"You renovated...an entire _mountain._ "

"You have video of the creature following me around when Risk and I met, yes?"

"Are there…. _more_ of it?" she asked carefully.

"Yes. I have no intention of leaving my home defenseless. Never again." His hands knotted into fists briefly, but his calm expression didn't change at all. Then he let out a breath. "One of the abilities in my expanded power set is magical biokinesis. So I used it to make new life that could defend my home. And, before the Internet says it, yes, it's an insect army." He smiled at the audience. "I swear I'm not going to conquer Colorado with it, guys."

Slightly strained laughter came from the audience, and Legion blinked before looking back at her. "So, anything you want to know? I'm not exactly going to hand out their capabilities on live television, mind."

"You said 'magical' biokinesis. So, you alter biology based on magic? You're using spells to do it?"

"I'm surprised you aren't denying the existence of magic."

She raised an eyebrow as Legion smiled nervously. Finally, a reaction from the man. "Wotan tried to blot out the sun a few months ago. And Mr. Zatara openly uses magic in his stage shows. If they want to call it that, why not?"

Legion laughed. "I need to introduce you to one of my friends," he said finally. "But yes, that's the gist of it. My magic is based on animal life in general, and so modification and creation are...extremely easy. Actually…" Suddenly, a white staff of bone was in his hand, head flaring with Red light. "Why don't I just show you?" He tapped the staff on the ground, and she closed her eyes reflexively as the light shown even brighter.

"...you can open them now."

"Chrr?"

What on Earth was making that sound? She cracked her eyes open.

"Why do you have a velociraptor, and why is it fluffy? And why does it have horns?"

 **2:45 PM MDT, Thursday, October 14th, 2010**

 **Challenger Mountain**

"Legion."

"Kal-El." The young man doesn't even look in his direction, instead sitting on the edge of the mountain, completely at ease. "We keep meeting like this, don't we?" The tiny bundle of scales and feathers in his lap chirruped, beady eyes staring up at him. "So, what's the occasion? Are giant spiders attacking Arizona?"

What on Earth-? No. He was trying to throw him off track, that much was obvious. Superman crossed his arms. "I know about Morrow."

"That man is dead."

"Then why is he in your Mountain?"

"That is Tomek Ovadya Morah. Not Thomas Oscar Morrow. Who, I repeat, is dead." Legion smiled up at him, and for just an instant he saw Luthor's face instead of the young man's. Arrogance born of madness. Then he blinked, and the image was gone.

"We both know that's not going to make much of an excuse," he said firmly. "Why?"

Legion sighed. "I assume Fate told you."

He didn't bother nodding. The kid'd already figured it out.

"So, are you here to take him off to Belle Reve? Imprison him?"

"Depending on how the trial goes, yes."

Legion cocked his head. "All of his actual crimes were decades ago, none of them bad enough to have an infinite statute of limitations. The worst you could do now is get him charged with negligence thanks to him forgetting about his robot double." He grinned. "You going to go through me just to hurt an old man, Superman? Especially one who's actually working to undo all his past mistakes. Can't do that from the inside of a jail cell."

The half-mocking tone made him bristle. What was the boy's problem with him? Their only real interaction had been…

...trying to keep him from lashing out at Bialya and destabilizing an entire nation. Standing between Legion and the vengeance the boy had wanted, and finding himself not the slightest obstacle as the boy had crushed his Manhunter-trained defenses almost contemptuously. That wasn't exactly fertile ground for respect. And now, here again, he was between Legion and what the boy wanted, trying to keep him from going down a dark path.

He couldn't back down, though. Not when someone guilty of as many crimes as Morrow was was concerned. But all being stubborn would accomplish right now would be another loss and even less reason for Legion to listen to him, or anyone else on the League for that matter. So Clark simply fixed the boy with a level look. "You think he's honestly working for redemption?"

"He was in no state to lie," Legion said calmly. The animal in his lap, on the other hand, stood upright, and hissed at him, baring a muzzle of razor-sharp teeth and hands tipped with wicked claws. "There's an entrance for an elevator at the peak, if you want to come in and talk."

And with that, he vanished in a burst of Red light. Clark sighed internally, and flew up to the peak. A small door, cunningly camouflaged to anyone who couldn't simply see the internal mechanisms with x-ray vision, slid open as he approached. He walked into the elevator slowly. One of the call buttons lit up as he did so, a place about two-thirds of the way down.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised at Legion's choice of elevator music.

When the doors finally re-opened, he found himself in an immense cavern, lights hanging and utterly failing to illuminate the highest reaches. A quick check with infrared revealed why- the walls and ceiling were a writhing mass of insect constructs, all of them ready at a moment's notice to attack, hidden from sight.

"I don't like intruders," Legion said from off to his right. "And neither do they." One of the creatures, an immense beast of one that reached past Clark's waist, trotted forwards. There was intelligence behind those eyes, and like its creator, Clark had the feeling it didn't much like him.

"Where's Morrow?"

"The not-so-good doctor will be joining us shortly," Legion said calmly. "He's been transcribing most of his knowledge. Did you know he's managed to make functioning AI from something with less power than a smartphone? It's impressive. Never patented it, though I think some of his work the Society confiscated ended up inspiring...well, let's just say you shouldn't mention any computer manufacturing company in earshot." He held up a carafe. "Coffee?"

Clark grit his teeth. "Legion. I know we don't see eye to eye. But stop this. Now."

Legion raised an eyebrow, but handed the carafe to the massive insect behind him, who took it in clawed appendages before trundling off elsewhere. "Stop what, exactly?"

"This passive-aggressive posturing. You don't like me, I understand that. But being confrontational does nobody any favors. Morrow least of all."

Legion blinked, then laughed. "Not like you? Hah! No, no. Your...coldness with Elias and Match aside, you're a pretty decent guy as far as superheroes go. It's your _approach_ I don't like. Not...utilitarian enough." He sighed. "Morah, all his mistakes aside...the world _will_ need defenses. You know that. And he can't build combat robots from a cell."

"And so you'd risk him turning whatever he built against the world?"

"If I thought he'd do that, he'd still be where he was hidden. Still dying." The elevator dinged.

Morrow didn't look his age, hair only greying slightly at the temples, the cane he carried clearly an affectation rather than a necessity. That had to be Legion's work. He nodded fractionally. "Superman."

"Doctor Morrow. I don't suppose you're going to come quietly?"

"Will you at least let an old man explain himself?" Morrow asked quietly.

Clark almost didn't want to, but he nodded anyway. And Morrow told him everything.

 **5:32 PM EDT, Thursday, October 14th, 2010**

 **Hall of Justice**

"And you're certain he can be trusted?" she asked, watching Morrow- no, Morah, now- as he worked on the mess of crumpled metal and circuitry that made up the internal structure of the three damaged Reds. The man paused briefly to pull an intact part from their slightly less damaged, hostile counterparts, before using the new part to replace a cracked section that Diana couldn't identify.

Legion shrugged. "As certain as I can possibly be. He honestly cares about the three of them. Less so the ones created by his duplicate, I think."

She didn't like this. But even seventy years after their creation, nobody was quite certain of the inner workings of Red Tornado, or his long-lost siblings, save perhaps themselves. Nobody in the League knew enough to repair them, save the ones on the slabs, and the older-than-he-seemed former supervillain working on them. At least Morah had determined that they were salvageable.

And then there was Legion. He watched Morah steadily through the window, tracking every detail, utterly silent. An intimidating figure to most. But Diana knew better.

She worked with Batman, for one. While Legion's utter lack of movement hid most tells, he still could not hide everything from her eyes. He was nervous, but it wasn't directed at Morah.

She could guess why.

The young man was still an enigma to her. On the one hand...Bialya. Rage and hate, cold as frostbite. As ruthless as the Batman- more so, because while Bruce had learned to hone his anger and leash it, Legion had only let it drive him forward.

She was no stranger to death. She'd killed, herself, fought in both World Wars. You didn't walk away from that without blood on your hands. But the way Legion had done it, cold and calm and _planned_ , was what rankled at her. A dark side to him. One that, in light of how he behaved now, made it easy to believe he was heading down a dark path.

Then there was the other hand. Cassie.

She'd considered stopping Cassie's visits, but the girl had pleaded with her, and she hadn't had the heart to keep her from visiting the young man she seemed to consider an honorary uncle. Not when she came back each time talking about how Legion had given her this or that idea about her powers, or cooked so and so for her, or simply spent time with her. The same was true of Garfield, though since the boy tended to spend most of his time in Mount Justice rather than anywhere else she had had few chances to speak with him. There was talk of Batman adopting the boy like he had Robin, but she wouldn't be surprised if Garfield instead ended up with Legion. Not after she'd seen the boy stagger out of the Zeta tube, dirty, tired, grinning like a fool, and holding aloft a prosthetic limb for a dog- a century ahead of anything currently made- like a trophy.

But the others hadn't seen that side. Only the apocalyptic swarm, the mountain lair, the coldness and terseness around League members. Small wonder Legion was on edge- he almost certainly thought he wasn't welcome here in the Hall. And the sad fact was, for many of the League's members his assumptions would be entirely correct.

That, in her opinion, was foolish, and thankfully Batman saw the same. Regardless of how she- or anyone else- felt about Legion, freezing him out would only make things worse in the long run. And...she understood the kind of rage he must have felt. Better than he probably knew. She hadn't given in to it, but she could see why Legion had. To be honest, if not for Ares taunting her...she shuddered to think how that fateful day would have ended.

So she reached out, placing a hand on Legion's shoulder. The young man flinched.

"Relax," she said calmly. "You are not going to be attacked here."

Legion sidestepped, eyes empty and cold. "You may wish to tell that to your colleagues in green. And the Thanagarians. And why not add Green Arrow, Canary, and the redoubtable Mr. J'onnz to the list?" he said flatly. The sigils on his hands flared for a moment, then settled. "My apologies," he said softly. "But I can't help but worry that some of them are one stupid decision away from trying to put me down." He smiled wryly. "For 'the good of the world', 'stopping the guy who went mad', and all that," he said calmly.

For all her age and experience, Diana knew she wasn't the one who should've been watching Legion's mental stability. No, that job should have been Lantern Gardner's, but the man had been elsewhere in the Sector for the past two weeks, dealing with a case of some kind, and so the job, here and now, fell to her.

"Regardless of what they might think, _I_ believe you are still a good person," she said firmly. "Reckless? Maybe. But you tried to make things right in the world. Even if your methods-"

Legion held up a hand. "Please. Stop." He let out a breath. "I...I know you're trying to help. Just...not here. Not now. I'm not going to go back to who I was, and…" He shrugged. "I've got an invasion to look forward to. And, whatever the approval or disapproval the members of the League have for me...I'll still keep preparing for it." He looked back at where Morah was still working. "So, we'll call his efforts community service?"

"Of a sort," she said reluctantly. "You'll keep him in Challenger Mountain?"

"He might've had good intentions, but so does Lex Luthor," Legion said. "I'd be a fool not to keep an eye on him."

"Then I think the League will find the situation acceptable."

 **12:03 AM EDT, Friday, October 15th, 2010**

 **Washington DC**

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Topic: I Am Legion  
In: Boards ►  
PlagueNumberEight (Original Poster) (Verified Hero) (Verified Pile of NOPE) (Verified STAR Labs Test Subject) (Verified Plague of Kahndaq)  
Posted On Sep 23rd 2010:  
This thread exists entirely so that people can ask me questions. Ask away.

(Showing page 71 of 71)

►  
Replied On Oct 16th 2010:  
Hello! I'm writing a paper for my college class about Elemental Supers. Sadly, all I can think of is yourself and Swamp Thing off the top of my head, so I hope you can answer a few questions? Bringing this up in thread since I thought it might help enlighten others who might want to know.

How do you get chosen by the Red, Green or Clear? Like, is there a way to contact them or do they just ping at whoever happens to win the meta/magical lottery and gets the right frequency? Like, is Poison Ivy like Swamp Thing, or is everyone tied to the Red, Green and Clear some kind of amalgamation of matter? Is there a theoretical list of folks who have ties to the Red, Green or Clear? (And is there a catch all term, cause righting Red Green and Clear all the time is kinda annoying)

OH! And if the Clear is all things aquatic.. does this mean Aquaman is the dude who represents the Clear, or do they have an equivalent of you guys under the sea?

... now I'm imagining either someone made up entirely of fish or seaweed or Aquaman turning into a living embodiment of water.

... I'm also imagining Swamp Thing, Aquaman and Legion getting together for Poker Night.

By the by, are there any other forces similar to the ol Red, Green and Clear?

I think that's all the questions I have. Anyroad, hope you have time to answer, if not I completely understand! Keep being an awesome hero!

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 69, 70, 71

I tilt my head slightly at the student's question, before tapping a brief answer, promising to send a PM with more information. While I'm just killing time until the person I'm waiting for arrives, it wouldn't do to get too deep into the depths of the Internet.

Waiting on rooftops in the middle of the night. Oddly enough, I never really got much of a chance to do this, despite it being the one big thing the 'darker' heroes stereotypically did. Funny how life is.

The fire escape creaks as weight settles on it, and I freeze. Still not sure what his powers are, and if they're any kind of enhanced senses...hmm. Depends on how jumpy he is.

First watches intently, two of the creatures I've dubbed 'featherclaws' perched on his back, between the blade-limbs. All three watch intently as a hulking figure in scarlet and black armor pulls himself up onto the roof.

Victor Stone's clearly been going for a knightly theme with his powers. The armor, while it looks rough and scabbed, still follows the contours of plate, complete with a visored helmet and an immense sword of some kind of darkened bone strapped to his back. He looks up, and I see red-glowing eyes narrow through the bars of the visor.

" _You."_

Oh that does not sound good. I smile anyway. "Me."

He looks kinda ticked off and _ow that's my spine._ I pull myself out of the wrecked remains of an air conditioning unit, vertebrae snapping back into place. "Mind explaining what that was-" I duck back as his ludicrously oversized sword passes through where my head would've been.

++Threat!++

++No,++ I order First as I weave into Victor's guard. A touch, and-

 _It is not of our work. Crystalline and fractalized, endless and yet limited, a pale imitation. IT IS NOT OURS._

"Gah!" _Fucking_ hell. What-

Aaaaand I'm airborne again.

Okay. Time to stop fucking around. I dissolve into the swarm, pulling myself together with staff in hand, watching Victor carefully as First falls back to the edge of the roof. The man's holding his sword in both hands, watching me steadily. "Surprised? You're not going to fuck me up again," he calls out as I perch myself on the edge.

"The hell are you talking about?" I ask. "I didn't harm you. I _healed_ you."

" _You call this being healed?_ " he shouts, and the roof shudders as he slams his sword into it. I blink. Scary, migraine-inducing biology...oh, figures he'd blame me. "Your powers aren't due to me growing your damn limbs back," I say flatly. "They're due to trauma turning on your meta-gene." A bit of a lie, but I'm not going to explain the fact that he's got an eldritch abomination using the gene as a connection right now.

"Why the hell should I believe you?"

"Why would I lie to you?" I retort. I sigh. "Look. I'm just here to touch base. If you want a job-"

"I'm not working for you."

I don't remember Victor Stone ever being this much of an asshole. Then again, I didn't know much about him beyond the Titans cartoon, and he'd been Cyborg for years then. Maybe he started off as a dick? "Not me," I say calmly, flicking a business card onto the roof at his feet. "Talk to her. I don't know how bad things are for you, but…"

Victor lets out a breath, visibly deflating. His form ripples, armor and sword shrinking away and folding into himself, revealing him clad in a grey hoodie and jeans. He looks at me flatly. "How'd you find me?"

"Bugs," I say simply. "Not all that difficult to see where you're going when I have the entire city to look for me."

"What's your game?"

"I'm following up. Got word you'd gotten powers."

"How-"

"It's magic, I don't have to explain shit," I say, utterly deadpan. "But I figured I'd make sure you're not going villain, or something."

"You're one to judge," Victor mutters.

I sigh, tipping my head back. "Still, call her. Even if it's just super strength, you'll be able to put it to use, and get a decent paycheck." Pity that the Denver City Council wanted to run some projections and figure out what insects should stay and which should vanish before taking Ms. Charles up on her offer of my services. It'll be months before that can be done. On the other hand, I've gotten plenty of offers for silk products, so many that I've had to grow a specialized creature called a Loom to make them in the quantity I need.

"It's...more than that."

"Then she'll still find a way. She's good with that."

"I'll think about it," Victor says, crossing his arms.

I nod. "That's all I ask." I signal, and First walks over to me. One of the featherclaws chirrups.

We're gone in a flare of Red, back in the Mountain.

 **10:08 PM MDT, Thursday, October 14th**

 **Challenger Mountain**

I have two more important meetings today, or rather tomorrow, and more work to do with Garfield and Morah. By the time the light fades I'm already in motion, staff tapping on the ground. Coat and hat vanish in a swarm of insects, leaving me in a red suit, and the staff shrinks down to a more manageable cane.

Am I cribbing the Shade's style? A bit, but I think Mr. Swift will not mind all that much. He might-

There is something wrong here. A subtle shift in the Swarm's bustle. Tension that should not have been there. Behind me, First growls softly, and the featherclaws clamber off his back, bristling all over.

++Where?++ I call, and the Swarm's thoughts shift and shimmer, focusing on the zeta tubes. League? Unlikely. They were not something to cause anxiety.

I give First a look. ++Find Morah. Protect him, and if need be, take the Swarm and run.++

++...Understood.++ There's a note of recalcitrance there. Best have a talk with him later. Don't want to have a traitor formed from neglect.

I walk quickly, moving down the corridors, gathering my thoughts and holding the spells I'll need in my mind, ready at a moment's notice. Not already cast, but waiting. The Swarm senses my tension, and in the rooms around the hangar, Hunters and Quills mass, blades and spikes ready. I stride through them, and the door opens at my approach.

Then I immediately drop to one knee, head bowed.

"Embodiment of the Green."

" **Champion...of the Red,"** Swamp Thing responds. " **Rise. We...have much to discuss."**

I get to my feet.

The Red and the Green are allies, working against the Rot, the Grey watching on the sidelines and the more basic elemental planes utterly disinterested. This much I know. The difference between a Champion and an Embodiment...it is even greater than the gulf between me and Richard Swift. Enough that I can see the shifting shades of power that connect what had once been Alec Holland to the Green, bright and bold enough that even trying to look at them on a deeper level risks a splitting headache. Or worse.

I nod, though, leaning on the cane. "Any particular reason for this visit?" I ask, trying to sound...not casual. But not afraid. This is _my_ place, not the Green's. I need to show strength.

" **The Red have...claimed you, and the Green...has taken notice. We...shall work together...at times."** The immense, leafy shape looks around, noting the few Drones of varying configuration that are scuttling around. " **They are...impressive, for one...so young,"** the Elemental says.

I shrug. "They're defenses. But thank you."

" **Here."** Swamp Thing leans down, extending a hand. Plant life writhes and twitches, and a sapling sprouts in his palm. The young tree is slender and thin-limbed, but the branches are heavy with round, green-skinned fruits. He pulls it free without a noise of pain. " **If...you have need, consume...one of the fruits. The Green...will answer."**

I nod as I press a hand to the bark. The plant _thrums_ with life, not clashing with my own power...but refusing to touch it, like oil and water.

"I have a greenhouse," I say. "Disused...but I think some work will bring it to life once again."

" **Do so, Champion,"** Swamp Thing says tonelessly.

"So, do you have anything else to add?" I ask, equally toneless.

" **Why? You are Red...I am Green. What my thoughts are...is irrelevant. You...have not aided the Rot, and so...I care not what you do. The...previous Champion, Baker...he did less...and still the Red grew strong."**

Well, isn't that encouraging. I nod, though. "Then we're good?"

" **Yes. Farewell, Champion."**

He doesn't vanish in a flash of light. Instead, the red lights of his eyes go dim, and the entire body sags, leaves visibly wilting.

I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. Okay. Swamp Thing, number one on the list of things I can't fight in any meaningful fashion, can apparently visit whenever he damn well feels like. Ain't life grand.

++Stand down,++ I call out to the Swarm, and Hunters and Quills trundle back to their nests and burrows. First approaches, Morah and a flock of the featherclaws following them both. The scientist glances up at the hulking pile of dying plants, eyes widening a fraction.

"Was it hostile?" he asks.

I shake my head, sitting down on a raised portion of rock. "Embodiment of the Green. Not...a fun thing to find in your home. Even if he was friendly."

"I...see," Morah says. He gives the husk another look. "I'll...start expediting my designs for the mass-produced Inferno units, then."

"What's your control plan?" I ask flatly. Might as well have this conversation now, since Big Green decided to wake up the Mountain.

"I was considering either making them controlled by the original, or perhaps building a more...simplistic virtual intelligence. The line is thin between their being intelligent enough to fulfill their purpose and so intelligent they'll risk rebellion," the scientist says with a shrug. "I will need to consult her, first."

"She's taking it alright?"

Morah sighs. "Better than I'd thought, less well than I'd hoped," he says finally. "My duplicate did not help matters by removing her artificial skin. She's...still deactivated until I can replace it, as is her older brother." He turns slightly. "At least Tornado has no such problems," he says finally. "And with the next-generation processors I installed, and the complete rebuild of their chassis, both of my older creations will be far more human...just as they wish."

I nod as I stand, mentally ordering a few Drones equipped with cutting jaws and a few others built to carry heavy loads to start cutting apart Swamp Thing's husk and carrying the pieces to the empty greenhouse area near the summit. "Garfield's coming, tomorrow, and you'll need your rest to keep up," I say. "Get some sleep, sir."

Morah smiles thinly. "No need to nursemaid me, young man. And I doubt you know much about sleep yourself."

I laugh. "Enough to see the coffeepot's been disassembled and rebuilt at least three times, old-timer," I say with a grin. "Now go. I've got to go looking for something in Kahndaq. And then start building stronger wards."

And grow a damn beehive that grew in the shape of a spell circle to serve as a beacon for the Red, _and_ could survive in the depths of the Louisiana bayou. Because I'm pretty damn sure I'm supposed to reciprocate with this...tree-thing.

Wonderful.

 **8:12 AM EDT, Friday, October 15th**

 **Washington DC**

I really shouldn't be surprised that the Pentagon is part of DC here. Geography and national boundaries are already screwy, what's the movement of one building?

Must play hell with the traffic, though.

Doesn't really matter to me, though. Not when global-range teleportation is a thing.

I did actually show up outside the building, rather than simply appearing in General Lane's office. I'm not a complete asshole. And I'm pretty sure appearing suddenly is a good way to get shot. Batman only gets away with it because, well...Batman.

"Are you paying attention, Mr. Alvear?" Samuel Lane asks.

I steeple my fingers. "Yes. You think the actions I took regarding Queen Bee included removing her powers, in contrast to simply neutralizing her pheromones and their effect on people," I say quietly. "And now you want me to consent to doing the same thing you think I did to her, to start depowering Belle Reve inmates, making them, well, human again. Easily dealt with by a normal maximum security facility." I tilt my head slightly. "How legal is this, precisely?"

Lane grunts. "We'd need to push a new bill through Congress," he says. "But it's pointless unless you decide to agree, isn't it, son?"

I shrug. "I like the idea, at least in principle. Especially for the mass murderers that typically end up in Belle Reve. Petty crime...I doubt that removing their powers would be seen as anything other than cruel and unusual as punishment for that. But, yes, your impression of what I did to the late Queen is correct."

"You mind telling us as to how?" He leans forward in his chair, over his desk.

"The Meta-gene is just that- a gene. And as a Champion of the Red, my power extends to biological alteration on the cellular level. Easy enough to switch it off, and the biological changes reverse with it." I raise a hand, and the sigil flares. "It won't work on magical threats, or those who rely on technology. But those can be handled in other ways, wards, or simply separating them from their tools. If it means that mass murderers and career criminals won't be in a position to harm people again...I'll be more than glad to volunteer my services, general."

Lane nods, not smiling, but not frowning either. "I've also heard about your little proposal to the UN."

I blink, and he laughs. "Don't look so surprised, son! I'm head of the U.S. Army's Department of Extranormal Operations. It's my job to know when there's a possibility of new metahumans, _especially_ if they're going to be military or paramilitary." He leans back in his chair. "I read the transcripts, and the MAC representative's recommendations. It's making me worried. It sounds like you want an army that'll be loyal to you as the source of their powers."

Oh. Hm. I shake my head. "I'll gladly train anyone else to do the same process. I _have_ an army, General. Why would I want one that's made of people with greater loyalty to their home countries than to me?"

"That isn't exactly reassuring, son. Tell you what, though: volunteer a bit of time here. Train some of my boys, whoever has the potential, in this magic of yours. Prove that you've got good intentions rather than bad, and I'll throw every ounce of support I can behind this idea of yours. Maybe even bring it up to the Security Council."

I pause. "My schedule's a bit full. Give me a month, maybe two, and I'll be ready to test whoever you like, but for now…" I shrug. "Too busy."

"Not a worry. I'll put together a list of candidates for you, and we'll meet in December. Call it the fourteenth?"

I nod, standing and extending a hand. "I'll see you then, General Lane."

He takes it. "I look forward to it, Legion."

 **8:41 PM MDT**

 **Challenger Mountain**

Watching Morah work is rather alien. I don't understand nearly enough about coding or robotics to tell what the hell he's doing. Even when he was starting the repair work on the Reds...yeah, I didn't understand it in the slightest.

Garfield's work, on the other hand...while it's the same idea, working in steel and circuits, it somehow _clicks_. Actuators and hydraulics substitute for tendon and muscle, circuitry and wiring for nerve cells, alloys and armoring for bone and skin. The prosthetic limb twitches twice as Morah double-checks the coding meant to let it interface with the patient, and the older man nods. "It's an elegant solution," he says. "I think we're ready."

Garfield grins, and gives me a look. I reach down to the pet carrier, unlatching the door and allowing the dog within its freedom. The small, wiry-haired mutt limps out on its three legs, looking around warily. Understandable, really, given that this was a new place. The DC pet shelter had been more than willing to surrender one of their animals, especially given that this fellow had been due to be put down tomorrow.

A touch is enough to make it fall asleep, and ensure it remains that way. A thought deadens the nerves in the stump of its left foreleg. I pick it up gently- it's truly a tiny animal, even if it is full-grown- and place it on the operating table. Garfield disconnects the equally small prosthetic from its stand, and reaches for a scalpel.

 **9:31 PM MDT**

"You do realize he's your responsibility now," I say quietly as the terrier runs about, yapping at a volume entirely out of proportion with its lungs. Garfield nods.

"I already know how to take care of him, and Wolf might like him, and there's plenty of food and water and ways to exercise, and…" he trails off, then watches the terrier. "He needs a name."

"Tyr?" I suggest. "Norse god, lost a hand to Fenrir…" I shrug. "So long as he doesn't show up in person to take offense I think you're good."

Garfield smiles. "Tyr. I like it."

 **10:51 AM MDT, Wednesday, October 20th, 2010**

 **Challenger Mountain**

I am already regretting getting a PO Box in Rifle. What had possessed me to open the damn thing to the public?

Note to self- make creature to sort mail. This is ridiculous. I let the sack of mail thump to the floor of the study, the last of three. I really should've expected this, but I'd...well, I'd forgotten about it, until the tiny post office had called me up.

++[Query?]++ First asks, claw-hands making soft clicking noises as he taps the fingers against his armored belly.

++Not everyone can talk to each other like us, big guy,++ I say. ++Long-distance communication. Letters.++

++[Confusion]. There is more than one letter in each.++

I chuckle. "English is working for you, isn't it?" I say out loud.

++[Affirmation]. I am progressing.++

I open the first sack and start sorting through them. Junk, junk, junk...fan mail, surprisingly. Guess people might be happy about the Swarm. Somehow.

Ooh, hate mail! I grin at the seething words scribbled in a sharp and jagged hand. No name given, or a return address. Typical. Even in pen and ink G.I.F.T. still has measures of truth to it. I throw it aside with a shrug, and keep digging. A couple of drones with small and delicate claws join me in the sorting, clearing away a vast amount of magazines and advertisements, and many, many letters, some with slander and lies, others dripping praises and exaltations.

Heh. Need to get out more. Even my internal monologue is turning purple in prose.

Hours pass. First brings coffee. Hundreds shrink to dozens. Dozens to one. The last looks official. University of DC. Hmm.

I turn it over, then stand with a creak of joints. Interesting. It's not a letter inviting me to attend- doesn't look like any of the ones I got back home- so why would it be sent?

Quick work with a letter opener- bone, of course, because why spend money when you can grow your own- and I start reading.

 _Mr. Alvear_ \- hmm, formal, but not a surprise.

 _-information made public-_

 _-matter of mutual interest-_

 _-position available-_

The hell? I have to be reading this wrong.

I don't... _think_ I am.

++Can you get Morah up here? It's not urgent, but I'd like his advice.++ I ask, broadcasting out towards the Swarm. I look up at the clock.

 **1:23 PM MDT**

Damn, I missed lunch. Not that I...need to eat, anymore. Hm. I stretch, putting hands to the small of my back, then put the letter down. Okay. First, food- because even if I don't _need_ it it's still delicious- then hope Morah arrives and helps me make sense of this damn thing.

 **2:03 PM MDT**

"You wanted to talk?"

I glance over my shoulder at Morah, then nod, using the spaghetti server to point at the opened letter. "Take a look."

He picks up the letter as I finish mixing the last of the spaghetti into the alfredo sauce, scanning it quickly. "Intriguing. Is this why you are preparing vast quantities of Italian food?"

"I cook while panicking, alright?"

"This...does not seem like something worth panicking about."

"It's not what they're offering, it's the... implications? Yes, that's the word. Implications. They're treating me like I'm not the age of most of their students. _That_ is why I am panicking."

I don't need to see him to know he's frowning. "Your age is a matter of public record by now. If you're worried about them thinking you're older than you are…"

"It's not that," I say slowly. "It's...argh. I guess it's only hitting me now, the way people might be reacting. I've got power, not just on the superhero scale but of the national kind...I guess that means I should start getting used to things getting...smoother, I guess. I just don't like the idea that they're only offering this _because_ of that power."

"You dislike the prospect of acquiring things because of what you are, rather than who you are," Morah says sagely. "But you lose nothing by at least discussing the possibility with them."

"You'd want me to go through with it?" I ask.

"Of course! Provided, naturally, that your own masters allow it. My...limited experience with magic suggests you should tread lightly."

"Hm. Fine. I'll head over in a couple days. See if-"

" _Recognized: Match, B08,"_ the computer announces. Rigging it to broadcast the visitor's arrival throughout the Mountain was easy enough. Nobody was going to sneak up on me this time.

"I'll go and talk to him," I say. "Go back and...I don't know, keep working if you want."

"The work on Torpedo's artificial skin is nearly done."

"I still can just grow it myself. Much faster," I offer. Again.

"Thank you, but no. This is something I need to handle myself." He gives me a level look. "And that young Kryptonian is something _you_ need to handle _your_ self."

I take the point, and shove the alfredo into the fridge before reforming myself in the hangar bay. Match blinks. "I'm still not sure I'll ever get used to you doing that," he says. "And I've probably seen you do it more than...literally anyone else."

I grin. "That's kinda the idea, you realize."

He shakes his head. "C'mon."

"Where are we going?" I ask as he turns back to the tube. He keys in a destination.

Hmm. Time to be paranoid and assume there's an ambush on the other end? No, Match wouldn't take part in that sort of thing and I'd have sensed magical or telepathic compulsion.

If this turns out to be a thing where he takes me to Paris and confesses his undying love, I'm punching him into orbit.

...there has to be something wrong with my brain that the first two possibilities I consider are 'ambuscade' and 'homosexual romance'.

"You coming or what?"

I blink, shaking myself out of my thoughts. "Right. Coming."

 **2:15 PM MDT**

 **Grand Canyon, Arizona**

Woah.

"Why do we have a zeta tube at the base of the Grand Canyon?" I ask. Match just shrugs.

"Think it's because having it on the rim risks tourists noticing. And people keep attacking the Grand Canyon."

I open my mouth, then close it, putting a hand to the ground. "Small wonder," I murmur.

Since Yellowstone I've been putting effort into sensing the mystical. All it really took was seeing what Fate saw to jumpstart the whole process, really. And here? Ley lines are _drawn_ to this place, pulled like iron filings from their normal networks until they twine together along the line of the river. Something _happened_ here, though I can't quite tell what. Add in the sheer number of people who come here and feel awe just looking at it...the entire place has enough magical energy to punch out a little-g god. "It's...alive here. Must draw attention for miles, even if it wasn't a tourist spot," I say softly.

"Really? Interesting."

"Why did you bring me here?" I ask flatly.

"We need to talk."

"Could've talked in Challenger Mountain."

Match shrugs. "It's quieter here."

It is, but I don't see what that has to do with anything. I look out over the canyon, watching the dance of the river below and the rock walls rising on every side. Silence drags out for long moments.

"I read up your reports on what you decided to do with Morrow."

"You here to talk me out of it?"

"No, not really." He sits down on a rock. "Just...everything that happened that day...it sucked. To put it mildly. And I...well, I don't care about what you did to Bee. She deserved it. But...you didn't need to leave over it."

I let out a breath. "It was either that, or let you guys tear yourselves apart arguing over whether what I did was right."

"What, you think we'd refuse to talk to each other over that?"

"I think some of the others would hate me over it, whether I was on the Team or not." Robin and Kid, mostly. Maybe Speedy as well. "With me gone, I at least got rid of the argument about whether or not they should consider me a hero anymore."

"So locking yourself up in the Mountain and being a jackass to the League is supposed to solve things?"

Now where did that come from?

"The League…" I sigh. "You know what? _Fuck_ the League, Match. You want to know why I'm a jackass to some of them? It's because the ones I flip off are holier-than-thou assholes. They could've undone Queen Bee in an instant, stopped her even more effectively than I did. And done it legally, since I _know_ Mr. J'onnz is consulted when mind control comes up in high-profile cases. But they seem to think that listening to every tinpot tyrant and dictator that sits in the UN rates higher than fixing things." My knuckles go white on my staff. "They're afraid. Not just of me, but of themselves. They refuse to act because of that fear, and since I _did_ act...they'll denounce me in private and look down their noses at me."

"Not all of them."

I let out a breath. "No. Not all of them. They've got people who aren't jackasses on board."

"So they can't all be looking down their noses at you, can they?"

I glare at him. "I was speaking metaphorically."

"Ranting, more like."

"Allow a man his drama, please."

"Fine. But here's the thing: why're you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding."

"You haven't left the Mountain except to deal with 'work', and even then you just keep on teleporting everywhere." He gives me a level, patient look. "We're still your friends, Grant. I really don't care what anyone else on the Team says- you're still welcome at home."

"Thanks for the offer, Match."

"I've actually been thinking of picking up the name 'Connor'."

"Really? Congrats," I say quickly, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a silver amulet. "Give this to Elias for me," I say, putting it in his hand. "It'll help with his whole half-Kryptonian thing."

I make it two steps before I taste dirt.

"Ow." I push myself out of the canyon wall. "You do that to everyone who tries to walk past you?"

He smiles. "I know nothing actually hurts you, so no, I don't. Just you."

"Dick."

"Says the guy who apparently tuned out the whole lesson about keeping in touch with his friends."

Oh.

I've been kind of a...what's the British word? Git. There we go. How the hell is the unsocialized alien clone nicer and better with people than I am? Hadn't really realized...fuck, I'll bet half the Mountain that Elias has somehow managed to think it's his fault I never go to Mount Justice anymore.

I throw up my hands. "Fine, fine. I'll go give it to him myself. Will that get you off my back?" I say in my most injured tone.

He's not buying it, judging by the way his smile widens. "Pretty easily, yeah," he says.

 **4:23 PM EDT**

 **Mount Justice**

" _Recognized: Legion, A-08."_

The training room is empty as I step into it. Odd. Usually there's at least _someone_ around.

Should I use my bugs? No, no. For one, I can feel wards on the Mountain exterior. _Someone's_ been busy, and I really don't think poking my soul anywhere near strange magic is a good idea. And there's not that many bugs in the Mountain. Odd, that.

Now. Where is Elias?

My staff echoes as it taps on the floor. Let's see...best bet is probably the common room if he's not punching someone into submission in training. Either that or the gym upstairs.

 _Tap, tap, tap._

" _I can hear you, Uncle."_

Cassandra. I grin. "Glad I rate being an uncle," I say with dignity. "How's your progress with the materials I sent?"

" _Pretty slow,"_ her voice whispers in my ear. Her control was good enough she could speak at range, like I could using bugs. Useful. " _They're very clever. Did Mister Morah make them?"_

"Nope, home-grown," I say. "And if they can even slow you down I'll bet they'll work quite nicely to soundproof Challenger Mountain against even Big Blue." I pause. "Speaking of Kryptonians, where's Elias? For that matter, where is everyone else? You'd think me arriving would at least attract attention."

" _Only if I let them hear it. Which I haven't."_ I can hear the grin in her voice. " _It's a surpriiiiiise,"_ she says, drawing it out.

"Hmm. Mind giving me directions? And warning me where the others are?"

" _Kaldur's swimming, Roy is punching things, everyone else is still at school. Did you forget?"_

I blink. Huh. Guess I had. "So why did Match still come and find me?"

" _He probably wants it to be a surprise too. Elias and M'gann will probably be here soon, I think."_

"Clever bastard."

" _Language, uncle."_

"And clearly there's been a lot of progress re-building your speech centers."

" _It's all pretty easy. Just have to make the right noises. And Mister Sommers has been helping a lot."_

"Good to know. So where are you?"

" _Up ahead."_

I hear the sound of paws thudding against the ground long before I see Cassandra ride in on Wolf's back.

Wait, what.

"And yet that is only the third-strangest thing you've perched on top of that I can remember," I say gravely as she jumps off and Wolf sits back on his haunches, panting happily.

"Fourth," she corrects, matching my tone.

" _I sat on First's head once, remember?"_ her voice whispers in my ear.

"Fair enough," I say. "Fourth-strangest thing."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

" _Match didn't say why he was going to get you. He's a jerk like that."_ her voice says.

"Oh. Well...you know how Elias gets all broody whenever Match does something he can't?"

"Hard to miss," she says flatly.

"Right, so I've been working on a way to fix his powers. Well, not fix...improve? I don't know, I can't really explain it without sounding vaguely creepy, like he's worth less without the powers being better. But it'll help."

"That's nice of you."

I shrug. "Made a promise, so I intend to keep it, you know?"

"I know." She smiles slightly.

"So, while we wait for them to show up, because clearly your uncle needs a reminder that other people aren't as free as him, how about we see if you can work out that resonant frequency?"

"The one for metal?"

"That's the one."

"Alright."

 **5:02 PM**

"When did you get here?" Red Arrow asks sharply. I don't look up, instead tossing the chunk of scrap steel into the air, where it's promptly vaporized. Cass smiles.

"Got it now," she says with a note of triumph. Red's eyes widen slightly.

"She can do that?"

"Sound is very versatile. Also, she's damping the noise required so your eardrums didn't burst," I say politely. "Also also, I got here half an hour ago."

"How didn't I- oh." He gives Cass a flat look. "Don't do that again," he says. "It's not funny."

"Fine," Cass groans.

" _Recognized: Superboy, B-04, Miss Martian, B-05."_

The light from the zeta tube throws shadows across the training room, and I get to my feet. "Keep practicing. And maybe talk with Canary."

"Yes, Uncle."

I throw my arms out wide. "Elias! M'gann! I come bearing gifts!" M'gann flinches slightly at my bombast, but Elias smiles.

"So you're going for hammy instead of broody, now?"

"I don't know what you mean," I say with perfect dignity.

" _Sure_ you don't."

"Anyway, gifts," I say with a smile, tossing the scarab amulet to Elias. "Pin that thing on your clothes somewhere for the next week or so."

"What...does it do?" he asks, considering it.

"Gradually shifts your neurochemistry and physical structure to that of a full Kryptoni-"

 _Oh capital-G God my ribs._

++Owowow...let go, big guy!++

Superboy's arms release me immediately, and I wheeze as my ribcage rebuilds itself. "Need to learn when not to hug that tight, big guy," I say. "But...yep, I worked out from Mat- sorry, Connor, and a bit of Kal-El, how to make the changes without messing with your actual...you know, _you._ Gradual process, but I'd be careful until everything shakes out."

Huh? The bugs in the area are starting to be squished, out of nowhere. Telekinesis...M'gann? Guess she's developed some neat-freak tendencies. Though this explains why there's so few bugs.

"Hey...where is Match, anyway?" Elias asks.

"Grand Canyon. He mentioned something about some utterly batshit park ranger and decided to take a look before he came back. He...hasn't called in, so I think he's al-"

" _Recognized: Match, B-08._ "

Speak of the devil.

Match staggers in, leather jacket and the solar suit beneath both ripped and torn, looking dazed and shocked. I raise my eyebrows. "What happened?"

"There was a mind-controlled cougar being puppeted by a cyborg spider. You know what? I'm going to just try to forget it happened," he says flatly.

Mind-controlled...nope, Grant, that way lieth madness.

Benediction of the Red, and Match sighs as the minor cuts on his body fade away.

"Alright, second thing I was planning to give…" I raise my hand, and reach out to the Red. A new sigil flares to life above my palm, and with a moment's thought it brands itself into the top of my staff. I snap the piece of bone off and hand it to Red Arrow. "That'll serve as a second means of calling me in, if for some reason comms are down or zeta tube travel doesn't work," I say.

"Paranoid much?" Elias jibes. I grin.

"It's never paranoia when they actually _are_ out to get you," I respond. "Now, I'll be heading back. Try not to get into any more fights with cougars, will you?"

"Don't plan on it," Match grumbles. I grin.

"You're all free to come by, any time," I say, giving M'gann a look. She takes a step back, but visibly steadies herself.

"That...thanks," she finally says.


	6. Arc Six: Circumvallation (Partial)

**AN:** So, to avoid people having to wait forever on me finishing the next arc, here's what there is thus far. Again, formatting is probably a little wonky due to it coming from GDocs rather than Spacebattles. Any help on that front would be appreciated.

 **2:37 PM MDT, Saturday, August 23rd, 2010**

 **Rifle, Colorado**

"So what're you planning?" Risk asks. Cass looks up at me, and I roll my shoulders, grinning all the while.

Risk smiles back. "Sparring?"

"Sparring," I answer. "Cass? You sure you're ready?"

She pauses, and I catch an edge of [trepidation] from her mind, old memories that she doesn't much like. Then she nods. "I can do this," she said. "Besides. You are nicer."

I let out a careful breath. Alright. "Go join Cody over there, then."

"Wait, you're making me protect a little girl?" the hero in question asks.

"Oh, no," I say. "If anything, it's the other way around."

"You're f- messing with me."

"Strength and durability isn't much measured against an unrestricted audiokinetic."

"A what now?"

"I control sounds," Cass says simply. She nods. "Let's do this."

I crack my knuckles, and a half-dozen projections of Red light flicker into existence around me, filling in with solidity until six men in Bialyan uniforms with glowing Red eyes stand in their place.

"Rules are simple," I say. "Those targets-" -a wave of my staff, and bugs coalesce out of the grass into human-ish swarms, nearly thirty of them- "-are civilians. Panicky, fleeing civilians. These fine fellows are the enemy. Disable them, non-lethally."

"Wait, how'd you make these guys?" Risk asks.

"I ate them," I say, utterly deadpan. "Any more questions?"

"...no."

"Good. You have five seconds."

The soldiers raise their weapons, and Risk springs into action. The closest two go down hard as he bulls into them, and the remaining four collapse, clutching at their ears. Cass grins as her own, transfigured ears twitch.

"Okay then," I say calmly. "Let's ramp up the difficulty a bit more?"

A tap of my staff, and Red light writhes up, hunching into a blocky shape that quickly resolves itself into the shape of a main battle tank, plated in black armor. Within moments, three more join it, and forty-odd soldiers, the incapacitated ones dissolving away.

I grin at Risk's expression. "More challenging now?" I ask.

"Get f-"

The lead tank's cannon is muted by Cassandra's power, but it doesn't stop the shell from hurling Mr. Driscoll off his feet.

 **5:28 PM MDT**

 **Challenger Mountain**

"So, what did we learn?' I ask lightly as my two students practically throw themselves into the comfortable leather seats I've set my conference room up with.

"That you're a cheating cheater who cheats?" Mr. Driscoll mutters, ice pack pressed to his head.

"Knew that already," Cass says. Her ears twitch once, twice.

"Never expect anyone to fight fair. Especially in sparring."

"Y' come up with that yourself?" Driscoll mutters.

"Nah, Robin told me it," I say. "Now...problems.""

"I'm not fast enough to dodge tanks, apparently," Driscoll says. "Got something to fix that?"

"Yes, actually. It'd probably be excruciatingly painful, given that the only previous test subject was a man who'd basically eliminated his sense of pain via a lifetime of shocking himself with lethal amounts of electric current, but I could make you much more powerful. Still. Current power set. Problems."

" _Sound doesn't do all that much to composite armor,_ " Cass's phantom voice notes. " _Difficult to work out non-lethal frequencies for the crew inside."_

I nod, and with a wave of my hand, red light gathers on the table. Not magic, just a simple hologram. Perks of having Batman-level budget for your secret base. On the tabletop tiny projections of Cass and Risk do battle with my soldiers.

"Normally, neither of you would be expected to engage an armored platoon, but we've established that normal human soldiers simply _aren't_ a threat, even with ear protection. The goal of the exercise was to test how well you could do in a difficult situation- no backup, outnumbered, and with the goal of protecting a load of squishy mortals," I say calmly. "Considering the circumstances…"

The tiny soldier projections split up, a large portion going after the 'civilian' swarm-clones while the tanks fire at Cass's position. Vibrations rip through the air in miniature, detonating the shells early and throwing the closest men off their feet. But while she's occupied, the soldiers open fire on the 'civilians'. Mr. Driscoll throws himself between the two, but he's only one man, and several of the swarm-clones collapse in simulated injury and death.

"This is actually a good outcome," I say. "Given an opposing force that's actively targeting civilians, having _any_ survivors is a success, especially if tanks are involved."

Hologram-Cass ducks behind a convenient rock, and moments later each of the tank's turrets shudder and start to smoke. Meanwhile, Risk charges into the soldiers, taking them down hard and fast.

"After the initial trouble, you responded quickly, and imaginatively. Cass couldn't penetrate their armor without liquefying the crew, but she could disable most of the motor parts by vibrating them out of place, which prevented them from using their weapons effectively, or maneuvering. Risk, you dealt with the soldiers with proper force and forced them to target you instead of civilians."

"So I was a good bullet catcher."

"Kinda why we put on the colorful costumes, big guy," I say with a smile. "Still, you kept them tied up, and while that happened…"

Moments pass, and then the hologram soldiers drop. "Cass worked out the right patterns to hit them all and leave your superhuman senses unharmed. All in all, there's twelve 'dead' and twice that 'injured', but again, having _anyone_ survive is actually a win for this."

I wave my hand, and the holograms vanish. "Good work."

"Still didn't save everyone," Driscoll mutters.

"Sometimes, you can't," I say softly. "That's just how the world is."

Hmm?

There's something... back of my mind, coming from the artifact I gave the Team. What…

 _ATTACKEDANDBURNINGPAINASSAULTDEFENDHELPUSHELPUSHELPUS_

 **7:43 AM EDT**

 **Happy Harbor, Rhode Island**

It had started oh-so-simply.

The League had contacted them, told them the Watchtower was picking up a large number of ships incoming. Minutes later, they'd identified them as Reach ships.

Artemis had read the briefings, both what the Lanterns had contributed and the recollections of Rudolf the Electric Reindeer (as Wally _insisted_ on calling him). Everyone had known that the Reach didn't conquer people, it infiltrated first.

Apparently they'd given _that_ up, because the Reach ships had opened fire on the League as soon as possible.

She loosed another explosive arrow, then ducked back behind the dubious cover of a shattered boutique.

They'd watched in shock as the Reach fleet had torn through the League. Superman, Batman, Major Atom...it had been a massacre. Heroes on the ground had tried to fight them off, and now...now there _wasn't_ a Justice League. Just the Team.

And Happy Harbor was burning.

Two more coming up on your left, Artemis, Robin's voice whispered in the back of her head, and she ducked and rolled, coming up with arrows already flying. The Reach soldier on the left went down with an arrow through his faceplate, but the one on the right dodged, bodkin glancing off his pauldron.

Dammit!

The Reach soldier raised his gun, but didn't get far before a lance of red heat vision burned through his torso. Seconds later, Match slammed into him, cratering the street.

Think he's dead, big guy,++ she said, standing up but keeping to cover. There were probably more soldiers.

Match shrugged. His jacket and solar suit were both battered and torn, but beyond a few scratches he seemed mostly alright.

At least _somebody_ was. Speedy…

No. She had a job to do. Focus.

++I think we have everyone who still lives within the Mountain,++ Aqualad relayed calmly. Too calmly. ++Start falling back. We've gotten what we need, continuing the fight here only risks it growing worse.++

She nodded as pulses of understanding flickered over their mental link.

They couldn't protect the entire world. Not from so many Reach ships. But they could keep the people of this town safe. Last they'd heard before the news had cut out entirely, other heroes, and even some villains, were doing the same. She'd seen footage of Salem protected by Doctor Fate, of Louisiana sprouting plants that grew to skyscraper size to swat down Reach fighters...but nothing from Colorado.

Nothing from Legion.

Match hurled himself up into the sky again, and she ran from cover to cover, an arrow already nocked, back towards the Mountain.

Her, the Super Twins, Red Arrow, Wally, Robin, and Speedy. They'd all thought to hold the line, as best they could, they'd had a plan, ways to protect everyone, while Aqualad and Miss Martian got the civilians out of the line of fire. A good plan, all things considered...but it'd already cost them too much, in her book.

She wasn't any stranger to death. But what that Beetle had done to Speedy...if she lived through today, it was going to feature prominently in her nightmares.

She rounded a corner-

Oh fuck-

She barely got into cover before over a dozen bolts of energy slammed into where she'd been standing, melting the tarmac to glowing slag.

Where the _hell_ had all those Reach troopers come from?! She reached for another bomb arrow, then stopped as her hand encountered bare shafts and she smelled burnt hair.

God-fucking-dammit!

No weapons. Outnumbered. Surrounded. It wasn't- Why?! Why was this happening? Why did Speedy have to-

Another corner rounded as light chewed through brick and stone behind her, and she smelled blood and burnt meat.

Robin.

No.

 _[Destination.]_

No.

 _[Agreement?]_

NO!

 _[Synergy.]_

Green light blazed in her hands, and as the Reach troopers closed in, she found she was armed after all.

"Artemis? Artemis!"

Whu-?

Roy's voice...why did he sound so worried? Everything was fi-

No, no it wasn't.

She sat bolt upright, or tried to, but only succeeded in ramming her head into Roy's spine, since he had her in a fireman's carry. Her fellow archer swore and stumbled, but kept moving. ++At least you're still alive,++ he grumbled, his mental voice lancing into her aching skull. ++What the hell happened?++

++Let me down! I can walk, dumbass.++ she growled mentally, even though the headache- that reminded her of the week Sportsmaster spent teaching them about detecting poisons by hiding them in their food- got even worse when she did.

++Not an option right now, sorry,++ Roy said serenely. ++Look behind you.++

Considering that she was thrown across Roy's shoulder like a sack of green potatoes and thus looking 'behind' was more like trying to push her torso away from his back, that was a bit more difficult than she liked, but she managed.

"Why," she slurred, "is everything on fire? And why is it green?"

++I don't know, but it didn't seem to be harming you, even though it was setting the Reach bastards on fire pretty effectively,++ Roy said as he ran towards the ramp that served as the land entrance to the Mountain. ++What the hell happened, Artemis?++

"I…"

She closed her eyes and tried to contain her nausea. The blood hadn't bothered her, but the expression on Robin's face, the pain…

It was only after she lost control of her stomach that she realized her hair had come loose of her ponytail and was hanging around her face. Ugh.

Roy's footsteps stopped and slowed, and finally, _finally_ , she was allowed back on her own two feet. She wanted to glare at the older man, for treating her like a child that needed to be rescued, but it wasn't...wasn't right, not now. So she nodded, and followed him down the halls of the Mountain, ignoring the ache in her head and the vomit on both of their costumes. "The others…?" she croaked.

"Everyone else made it in," Roy said. "How're you holding up?"

"I…" She shook her head, and then held up a hand. A thought, and a copy of her bow, etched in green light, appeared in her hands. Roy stopped dead.

"I think I've got powers. Powers from the shards, or whatever the hell Legion calls them."

Roy didn't worry over her, or freak out. He just nodded, and started moving again. Professional. She could respect that.

"Because of Robin?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she answered, just as softly as she shoved her disgusting hair out of her face.

++Where _is_ Legion?++ M'gann wondered over their link. ++He's supposed to be fighting this kind of- oh.++

M'gann didn't have to explain _what_ kind of 'oh' she meant. Artemis could feel it through her teammate's telepathy anyway.

A thousand eyes, a thousand hands, a thousand ravenous mouths, but above them all, one mind.

Legion was outside, and he was _pissed._

 **?**

 **Challenger Mountain, Colorado**

Urrghh…

My head feels like it's been ripped in half and then stapled back together…

I sit up with a groan, clutching my aching temples as the swirls of color come back into some semblance of actual reality. I see Cass looking worried off to the side.

"What….what the heck happened?"

"Your head exploded," she says frankly.

Okay, that explains a lot. Still…

 _Ohshitmyfriendsareunderattack._

"Okay, panic time!" I announce. "Cass, something's attacking the Mountain, I'm going to check it out myself," I say as I spring to my feet, ignoring a wave of dizziness. "If it's bad, I'm calling in the Swarm. Stay here, stay under cover. Where's Mr. Driscoll."

"Cleaning skull juices." She pauses. "Out of his eyes."

"Okay then. Find Dr. Morah, tell him to open the sci-fi closet. Now, got to go, Team needs me."

"What if it's-"

Threads of life are mine to find, mine to grasp and use as a lever. The center of Red magic within the Mountain is destroyed, but that simply means I have to resort to Plan B.

 **Still no idea, but EDT now, and still October 23rd**

 **Happy Harbor Airspace**

I pop into existence several hundred feet in the air, and immediately start falling.

Dragonfly's Wings.

Falling is now no longer a problem.

From the outside the Mountain seems quiet, which means the attack was subtle, and the zeta tubes are probably compromised. Now, who would-

 _WHAM._

The wings of Red light stop me from falling too far, but it's enough for the giant flying car-thing to get some distance between me and it. Who the fuck-

 _They are not ours._

 _They are foreign._

 _They are invaders._

Oh. Well, that just simplifies things, doesn't it?

I smile, as inside Challenger Mountain, fire begins to burn. I can hear the one in green armor shouting orders to his fellows, the air-car turning on a dime, but all I really sense is my pulse pounding in my ears.

These fuckers went after my team. I can guess that much from the fact the Red calls them invaders and the way their mere presence is setting off both a major headache and the magical sense equivalent of that fairy from the Legend of Zelda.

For that?

They're going down.

Blasts of blue energy and bolts of the same fly from the car, but I'm already dodging, slamming into the underside of the flying car. Dermaptera's Claws, and metal shrieks as I grab on with Red-light copies of my old talons, out of their firing arc.

Naturally, the vehicle begins trying to shake me off, and the sky and ground start switching places with alarming frequency, but I hold on tighter with one hand and start stabbing into the damn thing with the other.

I am, sadly, stopped in this noble endeavor by a booted foot suddenly smashing through the plating and kicking me in the face with surprising strength, launching me off the vehicle. My wings buzz, stabilizing me, and I call on the insects below.

" _ **You should not have come here,"**_ the swarm rumbles, countless flying insects swarming up from the harbor below. The alien craft peels away, bolts batting at the swarm and filling my brain with sparks of pain as insects die.

That...should not be happening.

Alright, then. I let go of the swarm once more, letting them return to their cracks and crevices, dodging the suddenly-accurate fire of the vehicle's passengers as I do so.

The vehicle's still faster than me, and I can't swarm them with the Swarm inside a populated area. I need to keep them busy, draw them off and hit them with my full power.

Then something inside the flying brick of a transport sparks, and smoke begins to pour from the engine as it starts to lose altitude.

I grin, and heft my staff.

Bombardier's Blast.

 **8:43 AM EDT, October 23rd, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

Kaldur felt like a failure.

Logically speaking, he should not have. They'd faced an enemy that outnumbered and outgunned them greatly, and still shepherded most of Happy Harbor's civilians safely into Mount Justice, where they were occupying the upper levels. Some were being seen two by those who understood first aid and medical attention, and he'd opened the infirmary for their use, but stayed out of the way.

He'd known they'd take losses, it was inevitable. But even so...

Outside, the battle was still going on, the sound of the swarm blanketing out the energy weapons, and, he knew, the dying screams of the Reach soldiers.

Wally stood apart from the others in the common room, tapping his foot impatiently. As Kaldur looked at him levelly, his hands clenched into fists, and he snarled. "Why aren't we _out_ there?" he shouted. "What, are we just supposed to sit around and wait for Legion to save us all? We're supposed to be heroes!"

"You really want to go back out there?" Artemis snapped. "You'll get yourself killed! Just like-" She stopped, and sat back down on the couch, staring down at the floor fixedly. Green light flickered around her hands before fading away as she took deep breaths.

"We are not hiding," Kaldur said calmly. "Nor are we 'sitting around'. We have been fighting for two hours. Legion is more than capable of handling the Reach soldiers in the area. We need to rest, recuperate, and plan, while he fights."

"Plan for what?" Roy asked. "It's not like we can fight an entire army."

"I…" Zatanna spoke up, then trailed off. "I don't think we'll need to."

Kaldur nodded to her. "How so?"

"If...well, if Legion leaves at least one of the Reach soldiers alive, I think I could use them for sympathetic magic. Take them all out at once. It's...not something Dad would want me to do, but given what's going on..." She stopped, and folded in on herself.

"Miss Martian-" -not M'gann, not right now- "-can you make contact?"

It did not seem likely that Legion would leave any survivors unless instructed...and, truth be told, Kaldur was not inclined to walk out into whatever hell the no doubt enraged biomancer was creating outside the Mountain's walls.

As if to confirm his decision, a faint roar could be heard from outside.

M'gann closed her eyes, concentration written on her face. "He's keeping me out…" she muttered. "Not on purpose, just...static, I suppose. Hold on…"

Green light flared behind her closed eyes, then she nodded. "He says he understands. I think."

"You think?" Elias asked cautiously.

"There was...a lot of swear words mixed in. I think he's a bit busy."

Match laughed, and the tension suddenly snapped. Elias joined in first, then Wally, then everyone else, and even Kaldur found himself chuckling.

He let it happen. He knew the Team was seizing on the first bit of release they could. There wasn't anything wrong with that, incongruous as the laughter seemed.

It cut off as the sound of a ringing knock reverberated through the hall. M'gann raised a hand. "It's him."

Kaldur stood, and motioned for Elias to follow him.

"Would someone kindly explain why the Reach has decided to bust down Earth's door and murder everyone?" Legion asked flatly as the ramp opened and he walked down. His staff was in one hand, and in the other was an unconscious Beetle in green armor who appeared to have been used as Legion's door knocker. "Because last I checked they had a treaty with the Green Lanterns keeping them from pulling this."

"Something must have compelled them to violate it," Kaldur said. "Do you have any idea?"

"Not sure, but they're killing a lot of people, so presumably we have a resource they really want or we're just so scary they're willing to fight the Corps if it means we're not a possible threat," Legion said. "Where's Cass and Garfield?"

"In the upper levels with the rest of the Harbor's civilians. The battle?"

"Done, for now," Legion said. "Swarm finished the job."

"Is Challenger Mountain secure?"

Legion paused for a moment, then shook his head. "Reach glassed it. Morah didn't make it out in time." He made a noise that wasn't quite a snarl. "Old man didn't want to run. How've you held up?"

"Most of the town made it inside before the Reach hit us in force. We-"

Kaldur found himself cut off as Legion dropped the Beetle to the floor with a worrisome crunching sound and stared at the green light shimmering in Artemis's hands. "One of the Lanterns hand off a ring, or…"

"Your whole weird power thing grew to _another_ person, yeah," Wally finished.

"Shit. How, and what _is_ it?" He stopped. "Wait. Where's Robin? And Speedy?"

Silence.

Legion froze, face a mask. "Okay, then." M'gann made a whimpering noise.

He turned back, then turned the Beetle over with the butt of his staff. " _Wake up_ ," he hissed, eyes and sigils flaring with Red light. The Beetle's body jerked, then its eyes opened, glowing the same shade.

"Legion, what are you-" M'gann began. Then she paled. "No."

This was not a good sign.

"Grant," he said.

The light cut out, and the Beetle dropped to the floor. The green armor plating began to retract, revealing bluish skin and a noseless face. With a wet tearing sound, the Scarab at the small of its back pulled itself free.

Legion crushed it under the butt of his staff. "He's dead," he said flatly.

"You tore his mind apart!" M'gann shouted.

"He'd already gone mad. The Scarab was the only thing controlling his body. Now he's at peace," Legion said flatly. "And now I have the information on every Reach fleet deployment. And the numbers to fight them on the ground, thanks to the Swarm. You coming, or what?"

Elias stepped forward, but Kaldur put a hand on the Kryptonian's shoulder. "Legion," he said soothingly. "We cannot go charging off unprepared. Not against the Reach."

"So you'd rather-"

"Do you have a plan, or do you simply plan to bury the Reach in bodies? We need time for Zatanna to work."

Legion stopped, then shook his head mulishly.

"A couple hours should be enough," the sorceress spoke up. "After that, we just need a magically potent location. Something that'll let the spell have worldwide effects. But since you just _killed_ the guy we were going to use-"

"He's not Reach. I've got a squad's worth of their mudfoots sitting outside under heavy guard. Go pick one out," the biomancer said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

"So was there a point to dragging the Beetle in here?" Roy asked sharply.

Legion shrugged. "Was wondering how the Scarab worked, wasn't sure the wards would let one of the Swarm in," he said blithely. "Didn't know the thing was _that_ bad, assumed it was just an AI control node for the armor." He sighed, then nodded to Kaldur. "I'll be in the labs. Let me know when we're ready to move. Artemis, Red, can we talk?"

At his nod, the two archers moved to follow the biomancer down the hall.

"What do you think he's gonna be doing down there?" Wally asked.

"I do not know, and I doubt I want to," Kaldur answered. "Go with Zatanna, retrieve what we require. Miss Martian, Match, Elias, keep an eye on the civilians and the children."

"What're you going to do?" Elias asked.

"I'm going to see who's still fighting," he said.

 **10:03 AM EDT**

The situation was bad, and getting worse by the hour.

Salem had vanished in a flash of golden light an hour ago- whether that meant Doctor Fate had managed to transport the town elsewhere, or the Reach had managed to breach his shields, Kaldur did not know. Much of the Louisiana Bayou was burning. Army and National Guard detachments, cut off but still fighting, were being cut down but stubbornly refusing to surrender. At least two Reach ships had been disabled by nuclear strikes in the Midwest, fallout starting to spread as a result of humankind's suicidal efforts to kill their foes.

England was holding, Kahndaq as well, glowing with eldritch lights that struck the Reach ships down. Only a couple of Reach ships, the smallest, managed to land in Kahndaq, and then the sands had risen up and consumed them.

Rhelasia was alight with missiles and anti-aircraft fire, and other, more exotic weaponry.

Power-armored Russian battalions and Chinese advanced aircraft had reaped their own toll, but they were too few, and they had been broken.

Portions of Africa and South America, tiny enclaves, were making their own stands, but without support or exotic weaponry, they weren't going to last much longer.

The Reach were shooting down what satellites crossed their paths, but otherwise ignored the planet's orbiting infrastructure.

It was not much of a mercy. The stealthed League satellites could see even into the ocean depths. See deep enough to make out the dark shapes of Reach frigates in the waters over Poseidonis, and the lights going out across the city.

"I doubt it's good news," Roy said from behind him.

Kaldur pushed himself away from the monitors with a sigh. "It is not, old friend," he said heavily. "How is Artemis?"

"She's...not good. Not that _any_ of us are." The archer shook his head. "She'll hold together. I think yelling at Legion is actually helping."

"His name is Grant."

"I know, but when he's _that_ angry…"

"All the more important to remember that he is more than the swarm."

The corner of Roy's mouth twitched downwards. "Fine, then. Her powers...she fires arrows of green energy, and they can...well, whatever she hits, she can do whatever she likes to. Rip apart, set aflame...it'd scare me more if we weren't about to go out and fight a war."

There again, that feeling of having failed.

"And yet that is what we are going to have to fight," he said. "The choice was not ours, but it is our duty to defend the planet. No matter...no matter the cost." He paused. "Can you find Elias and tell him to come to the vault? There are...items there I think it is time to put to use."

 **6:03 PM EDT, Saturday, August 23rd, 2010**

 **Happy Harbor, Rhode Island**

It was supposed to be a simple retrieval mission. The Enemy had stolen some minor examples of Genesian technology, and his team was tasked to get them back from this backwater world. Why Apokolips was sending Genesian tech to this planet was unknown, but it was guaranteed to be an easy run, something perfect for his team to gain experience without risking retaliation from the Enemy. This backwater was not important enough to break the treaty, and denying the Enemy influence here would have avoided outright war.

A simple task, a 'milk run' in the local tongue.

And then _**he**_ had appeared.

They'd flown from the city called 'Metropolis' and located the signatures of the New Genesphere, relatively close. The location had borne wards of decent strength, but against Mother Box and her sensors there was no concealment. Still, caution had been called for. They'd approached with their own signatures camouflaged as a matter of course.

And then, appearing in a flare of blood-colored light, _**he**_ had tried to bar their path. The air-car had run the creature down, but in that brief instant…

 _ **A throne of bone and sinew, supported by bodies.**_

 _ **A gleaming white smile stained by the**_ _ **red**_ _ **of life, sharpened teeth in the darkness.**_

 _ **Gore unending, countless lives made to work to one design.**_

 _ **Fractal lives fracturing and splitting, spreading like a cancer.**_

 _ **Leviathan, Hive Queen, Swarm.**_

 _ **LEGION.**_

Vikyn had nearly screamed at the _wrongness_ of _**his**_ spirit, the blood and death it reeked of. So had the others. But as the bloody spirit of the _thing_ in the air rippled and clawed through the air down to the village below, he found himself with no choice.

Backwater or not, primitive or not, the people below were still innocent, still civilians. And he would not let them be killed while he still breathed.

"Moonrider, Serafim, harry it. Draw their attention and keep it from harming the civilians," he ordered swiftly. A thought, and the aircar turned under his command, the primitive machine spirit within too unintelligent to know the danger it was facing.

Everyone else _did_ \- he could see it in their eyes and in the fits and starts of invisible energy around them as the young gods prepared themselves for battle.

Moonrider's blasts and Serafim's pistols sent waves and bolts of blue energy onwards, enough to hurt and delay _**him**_ , but the creature simply slid aside, bloody wings buzzing and sending it hurtling through the air at impossible speeds towards them.

The aircar's machine-spirit shrieked in pain as the creature slammed into the underside of the vehicle, and Dreamer was nearly thrown out of her seat as the safety fields flickered.

"Αρκούδα, he's below you!" he called.

That was a mistake. The hot-blooded giant, instead of clambering out of his seat, simply slammed his foot through the metal and structural fields of the aircar. The machine spirit's inaudible screaming tapered off to a moan of pain as _**his**_ assaults were ended, but it was wounded badly, and he could see _**his**_ soul spreading out amongst the town below, bloody light entering the countless tiny creatures below.

A swarm. Of course.

" _ **You should not have come here."**_

"We're pulling back," he said, agreeing with the horrific voice. Moonrider and Serafim were firing again, the backwater-enthusiast dialing his pistols to their most lethal setting, but they could only force the light to die along with the insects it was puppetting, not actually kill _**him.**_

The aircar turned laboriously, pulling away from _**him**_ as the light retreated from the insects below and concentrated on _**him**_ once more. Then something deep within cracked, and he felt the machine's spirit die.

The aircar began to fall, moments before the air turned to flame.

 **8:04 PM EDT**

Consciousness was slow to return, far slower than it should have been.

To be fair, he had not expected it to return at all, so perhaps it would be best if he did not complain about the difficulty of awakening.

Still, the world came into focus slower than it should've, revealing- eventually- dim lights, rock walls, and cots filled with the unconscious forms of his team.

"Huh. Figured the big guy would be the first up," a voice said. Without even thinking, he knew that it belonged to _**him.**_

"Works either way. You're the leader, right?"

"My name is Vikyn, of the Forever People of New Genesis," he answered, not looking in the direction of that bloody tyrant's soul. "You will release me."

"New Genesis? Huh. Didn't think Highfather trained his boys to shoot on sight," the voice said. "Fair enough. I'm not stopping you."

A lie. It had to be. But he sat up and swung his legs off the cot to face **the Legion** anyway. "What do you want with us? Why have you taken the New Genesphere, creature?"

"Okay, first off, I'm human, at least I started off that way," **he** said. "Second, if you're referring to the Sphere…"

 _Beep-warble chirp._ The New Genesphere entered the room, and Vikyn's jaw dropped. "He _what?_ "

 _Waaarble._

It made no sense. It _couldn't_ make sense. Why would something like _**him**_ retrieve the Sphere, show kindness when he saw no use in it?

 _Beep-chirp-chirp._

Mother Box _ping_ ed back, starting off a flurry of conceptual conversation. Vikyn simply stared at _**him**_ in blank incomprehension as understanding trickled through his mind.

A warrior of all animal life, equivalent to one of the middling ranks of New Genesis in raw power, and a defender of his world. And apparently, despite everything Vikyn's senses showed him, the fact that his soul was literally bathed in blood and gore, **he** was someone who fought on the side of good.

They'd attacked a champion without cause.

"Okay, I have no idea what they're saying, but I'm going to go talk to my superiors and have _them_ sort this shit out, I have teammates to worry about," _**he**_ said, waving his hands. "Try to keep your own guys from doing anything too stupid when they get up, alright?"

 _ **He**_ departed, trailing that aura of blood and tyranny, and all Vikyn could do was stare blankly into space.

Eventually, he found his voice.

"What."

 **8:13 PM**

The sheer _presence_ of the others in the room with his team worried him. That a backwater world had such champions…

But he had his mission.

Though there would be a _lengthy_ series of reports on how they needed to check magic-rich worlds more than every fifty years or so, seeing as how _this_ world had created a united defense force that rivaled the New Gods in strength.

"So once you retrieve your technology, you'll depart?" the **Knightmare** asked, voice growling. If strength of spirit was how they determined ranks, this man was clearly the leader. It seemed to be the case, judging from how the **Paragon** and **Marksman** deferred to him. Even the **Legion** seemed wary of him.

He nodded. "Our mission is to bring back the Rescue Drill and the New Genesphere, nothing more. We...had believed that the Enemy was guarding them here, via disposable agents. Hence our...misunderstanding."

The **Marksman** chuckled. "Hell of a misunderstanding."

Vikyn was grateful for the darkness of his skin, for it hid the rush of shame and embarrassment well. "Once we determine who is serving as the Enemy's agents in this world, and retrieve our own technology, we will depart. I give my word."

The **Knightmare** considered for a moment, then nodded. "Superman. Arrow. Take Aquaman with you, and assist them."

What. "We do not believe that our opposition requires-"

"Did you believe you would encounter Legion?"

"...No."

"Then you will work with us."

Vikyn resisted the instinctive urge to salute the man, and merely nodded in return. "Then you have our thanks." He glanced at the New Genesphere. "Are you coming with us?" When the living machine whirred and beeped, shifting a half-foot one way and then back, he sighed. "I thought not."

 **8:16 AM EDT**

Worry would have consumed him, had he been a lesser man. As it was, he simply observed as J'onn meditated, legs crossed in the lotus position as the Martian floated in the air.

Legion watched alongside him, fingers tapping nervously on his staff. A look, and he stopped.

Handling the young man was difficult. Socially paranoid, prone to aggressive response, and absurdly powerful were not good combinations. Given his relatively new isolating tendencies...he'd decided to simply give the young man what resources he needed and monitor his progress, rather than attempt to push him towards returning to the Team.

Given the current situation, would having another telepath within the simulation have prevented it? He had no way of knowing, but the question nagged at him.

Red light flickered in Legion's eyes. "Still not sure what he's doing, but they're still in a-"

" _Gah!"_ Manhunter jerked in midair, hands going to his head. He stood, no longer flying. "I...there is something deeply wrong with the simulation, and I cannot enter it. There are...walls, and I sense M'gann's mind behind them. And...something else."

"Outside interference?" Bruce asked. Manhunter paused, then shook his head.

"It is something within. I...am not certain what. Walls of crystal…"

Legion sighed. "Fuck. There goes one plan. Any gap in whatever metaphorical defenses there are?"

Manhunter shook his head again. "Nothing that a sentient mind could pass through intact."

On one of the biers, Red Arrow jerked suddenly, before something red and crystalline sprouted from his back like wings, shifting and shimmering. Legion stared at it for a moment, then switched his gaze back to Artemis, who was still glowing a steady, uninterrupted green.

"That's two, now. What the hell kind of simulation are you running them through?" Legion asked, voice that particular level of calm that meant he was one wrong word away from causing a repeat of Bialya.

Bruce sympathized, at least a little. There wasn't a single rule he wouldn't break if Robin was in mortal danger. Not even the One Rule.

But Legion's anger was misplaced, here. "They knew it was a simulation going in, one projecting the results of a Reach assault on Earth. Until things went wrong, they _knew_ it was not real."

"And now they're soldiers in a full-scale war," Legion grated out. "Wonderful." He looked over the still forms of the Team.

"Well, there's nothing else for it, I suppose," the young man said softly. His form wavered, then collapsed, insects spiralling out to the biers with astonishing speed. What was he-

" _I'll find a way,_ " the swarm rumbled.

"There's no way to reach them!" Manhunter shouted. "A mind would be-"

" _A normal mind, aye. But I am many and one, shattered yet whole. I'll_ make _a way, if need be."_

Red light began to glow.

 **I have no idea how time works here**

 **Inside a really fucking weird dream**

So, apparently in order to reach the conscious mind, you have to wade through a whole mess of weirdness. And by weirdness, I mean you start off waist-deep in what looks like unicorn vomit.

Mr. J'onnz could've...no, not really being fair, I did just throw myself in here without asking. So, yeah, can't really complain.

What I'd _really_ like to know is why half of me is missing. Well, not missing, but...transparent. Feels like it should, but everything on my left side from the armpit on down, including the coat, is just...solid Red light. Fucking _weird._

I pull myself out of the strange, rainbow-colored muck, onto a shoreline of bare dirt, and look around. Alien geometries are freaking everywhere, and fragments of buildings and locations are stitched together without rhyme or reason. A bit of a suburban home here, a patch of desert there, thick rainforest right next to it. In the distance, there's a thin line, like a mountain range.

Well, fuck it, time to start walking.

As if responding to my thoughts, the dirt shimmers and writhes before becoming battered asphalt, the road pointing straight towards that distant line.

Well, don't mind if I do, pile of subconscious ether. I start walking.

And walking.

And _walking._

….that line in the distance isn't getting any closer. I sigh. "Okay, what sort of bullshit-"

The world flickers, and I'm falling-

Challenger Mountain is not nearly so quiet, now. It's not much of a surprise.

I hadn't expected anyone to follow me when I'd decided to leave- hell, I'd left to keep the Team from fracturing the exact same way! But even so...I'd apparently built bonds just strong enough to override their loyalty. Somehow. I'm not certain how that even happened.

Artemis. Match, Elias, Roy...even Rudolf had decided to join, once he'd found out what we were doing.

They're all looking to me, now. I take a deep breath.

"I'm not going to be bothering with speeches or lecturing," I say. "But today, things end." A touch, and the holographic emitter I'd built with Morrow's stolen knowledge whirrs to life.

"Our target is Ra's al Ghul. We will prevent-"

This is not **right** **.**

Everything flickers again, and I find myself in a hallway filled with mirrors. I sigh.

"Mind games. Great. Going to show me all the things that could've gone wrong? Or try to get me to repent my sins?" I look at one of the mirrors. For half an instant, I see my old, insectile form staring back at me, before there's another flicker and it's back to me again.

"Well, whatever's running this? What's your game?"

Silence.

"Fuck you, simulation, or whatever you are," I say lightly, marching down the hallway. Thousands of different forms flicker in the mirrors in the corners of my eyes. I ignore them. They're distractions, and I can't afford-

They'd tried to kill me. If only they'd succeeded.

I couldn't even blame them, not really. A country torn apart, quite literally, by their own insect life would be more than grounds enough to start launching the heavy stuff, and the League hadn't been able to restrain Israel from taking preventative measures.

I open my mandibles in a grin as I see with all my many eyes the hundreds assembled to face me, at the edge of the habitable zone.

For five years I'd slept, under a desert baked into glass by the unleashing of atomic fury. For five years I'd tinkered.

Was I mad? Oh, most definitely.

But now the glass sands shook as my creations burst free, and I laughed and laughed and _laughed_ as the heroes rose to meet them.

Everyone needed a common enemy. If I was called upon to provide that role, who was I to deny them?

The heroes scattered as gnashing sandworms tore through their ranks, and a hundred different effects and attacks streaked towards me. A brief moment of focus on the principle of defense of young, and they're all stopped dead.

I-

I **am not a monster.**

The world changes again, and I pick myself up off the cool tiles of the floor. "Great fucking job," I snarl. "Come on, what else do you-"

Order.

Order was everything.

Nabu had attempted to steal away Kaldur's mind for his own purposes, desperate and foolish though it was. It had been trivial to force him away, and to take his soul just as he had attempted to take Kaldur's.

And then...epiphany.

Competition bred chaos, chaos bred loss, loss bred weakness.

Life could exist under order, but only as something greater, something of singular vision.

Everything could have its place if only one mind and soul ruled it all.

Everything-

I laugh. "Come on! You're slipping if that's the best you can come up with. Horror? Death? Becoming a monster? You think I haven't thought of those?" I take a step forward, then another, then another, pushing forward. "My friends are in danger. Until they're safe-"

-I smile as the Man of Steel's blood coats my hands, another enemy destroyed-

"-I-"

-Artemis screams as a forest of bladed bone cuts her apart-

"-will-"

-the Mountain crumbles from within as charges detonate-

" _-not-_ "

-I laugh as everything dissolves into chaos, a new Entity at my side and bound to my will-

"-STOP!"

The world shatters like a broken mirror, and I stand in front of a wall of crystalline flesh, tendrils reaching out and vanishing in bursts of fractal light. A shard's body blocking the path I need to follow. Why, I do not care. I tap my staff, and the creature's bulk shudders. "Stand aside, or die. Your choice."

The crystalline flesh fractures open, and the unconscious forms of **my team** fall to the formless ground. M'gann is the first to rise, hacking and coughing, and I place a hand on her back. She's fine, move on.

Elias and Connor are up quickly, supporting one another, followed shortly by Kaldur. Roy practically leaps up, blood-colored crystal protruding from his back in a shifting, winglike structure. Artemis rises with green light flickering in her hands, pulling Speedy up quickly. Robin is already up by the time I reach him, looking around sharply, and Zatanna only needs a moment before collecting herself.

"Everyone up?" I ask. Nods flicker around.

"Alright. Let's get the hell out of here."

 **Later**

I pull myself out of the swarm and condense my view from many to one, forming a body again quickly. By the time it's done, the others are already waking.

"What...happened?" Kaldur asks, and like magic Batman appears in my field of vision.

"Try to remember."

I look the others over as Batman explains the nature of the simulation, the way M'gann's mind took over through sheer power and fear. How it trapped them in a world that seemed all too real. I raise a hand.

"It...wasn't actually M'gann," I say. "Looked to me more like a shard. Might've been that she triggered from the strain, might be that I need to go beat the truth out of my own. Give me a few minutes and I'll know for sure."

"That will not be necessary," J'onnz says, placing a hand on his niece's shoulder. "I will be capable of communicating with anything present within her mind."

"J'onn," Batman says warningly. The Martian nods minutely. "However, your particular knowledge may be of use."

"None...none of it was real?" Artemis asks, staring at the green light in her hands. "Then why…"

"Powers? They rely on mental trauma, mostly," I say with a shrug. "Doesn't matter if it's all in your head, you'll trigger anyway." I look over at Red, whose crystalline growths have vanished. "I'm going to need to be talking to both of you, if you don't mind."

She half-smiles. "I'd...I think that might help," she says.

I give her a grin I sincerely hope is reassuring. "Good."

"Team."

Everyone's attention swivels to Kaldur, who is standing, somewhat shakily.

"Dismissed. Legion. Stay."

He's not my boss anymore, but something in his tone makes me remain anyway. With the others gone, the full weight of his presence is on me. "You need to come back to the Team."

"You know why I left. Nothing's changed; it's still-"

"No. Things have changed. I respected your decision to leave; that was a mistake. It has only deepened divisions instead of healing them. It has left us vulnerable. If we had had a second telepath, or someone who understands shards, this would not have happened." I expect him to turn away and pace, but he stands like a rock, staring me down. "The Grant I know would not leave the Team this vulnerable."

"The League doesn't approve of me. Batman wouldn't tolerate-"

"Let _me_ deal with the Batman and the League. Who is on the Team is the Team's business." His voice doesn't soften, but his posture becomes subtly more welcoming. "And you are missed. By everyone."

"I have other projects, obligations-"

"Which you can carry out from here as easily as anywhere. This is your home, Grant. We need you, and I think you need us. Come home."

I sigh. "...very well, Sir."

The corner of his mouth quirks slightly upwards, the sternness vanishing. "Good. Dismissed."

I turn and walk out the door.

I'm back on the Team. Huh.

 **Still Later**

Raised voices are easy to hear. Especially Kryptonian ones. Apparently superhuman lung capacity means decibels more closely associated with a heavy metal concert than an argument.

" _-bothering right now?! You never-"_

The door opens, and I sidestep a chunk of rock that hurtles through the air.

" _What,"_ Elias snarls, ignoring his gene donor.

"I can hear you clearly from two floors down," I say calmly. "So can Connor."

Elias's anger vanishes, replaced by a look of concern, and he shoves past me in his hurry. I stare down the Man of Steel.

"If that was supposed to be your attempt at reconciliation, you have a shit sense of timing," I say flatly, and the man visibly deflates.

"I know," he says quietly. "I...don't really know what I expected." He shakes his head, and for a moment I almost feel guilty. Fuck it, it's not like I can lower the man's opinion of me any further.

"Look," I say quietly. "He's built something for himself...and to be honest, it doesn't feature you in it anymore. You want to start talking now...stop thinking you know anything about him. I was dumb enough to think that, and I got a super-powered telling-off from his brother." I shrug. "That's the way of things. You try to force him into an idea of what he should be, he gets angry."

"That...seems to be a lot of the time, for him. I was never…" he trails off for a moment.

I spread my hands. "I'm guessing you actually had parents, and _weren't_ grown in a tube as a living weapon. Trust me. He's got a lot to be ticked off about."

He winces. "I...never got the chance to know him. Didn't take it. But he deserves a chance to at least know me. It's...not his fault, that it's difficult to talk to him, knowing what…"

"Most things that're worth doing are hard," I say flatly. "Doesn't mean it's not worth it in the end."

"Would you find it hard to believe I don't think I'm strong enough?" he says with a halfhearted smile.

"Would you find it hard to believe I think you're full of bovine excrement, sir?" I reply. "Man up and ta0lk to the other Kryptonian, as an equal."

He chuckles. "You're...you're a good man, Legion. Grant. I'm...sorry, we froze you out."

I shrug. "Hardly a good man, sir. And since it's not your way…" I smile. "It's how it is, ain't it. Queen Bee…"

He pauses, halfway out the door. "Legion?"

"Sir."

"You were right. Most things that're worth doing are hard."

The _fuck._

And then the bastard's gone.

What. The hell. Superman...the Man of Steel, the one person who'd never condone killing except in the worst possible worlds, the man who takes pains to keep himself human and grounded, the man who, who-

 _This is not right. This is a lie._

I chuckle. "Clever bitch, aren't you?"

Red light burns.

"Not clever enough."

One last time, the world departs, leaving only the void behind. The void, and a pair of doors, ornate and gilded and huge.

I shove past them, and stare blankly at the person I see within.

" _You."_

 **12:31 PM EDT, October 23rd, 2010  
Roanoke Island**

Waiting.

Out of everything, Roy probably hated waiting around the most. The feeling of being stuck, unable to advance...it set his teeth on edge.

Waiting knowing there was something out you that very much wanted to kill you, but you didn't know when it would show up or in what way...that was exponentially _worse._

Only his training and the knowledge that the others were depending on him kept him from breaking cover, just from the need to be _doing_ something. It would've been better if he could've helped with the ritual, but...well, he had no magic. And he couldn't patrol like Match, Superboy, or M'gann, since he had no flight and wasn't..tough, like they were. So he waited in ambush, like Artemis was, elsewhere on the tiny island, while Kaldur, Legion, and Zatanna worked to make the most terrifying spell he'd heard of.

On the other hand, if it really did kill all the Reach on Earth, he really couldn't object. Not after what they'd done to Speedy. To the other him. And what they'd done to Robin, hours later.

In the shadows of the forest he let himself smile thinly.

Legion, at least, would make the bill come due. He had a knack for that, and understood how things worked in a way the others didn't. Pragmatic, when things were on the line, even if he could be a bit of a cold bastard the rest of the time.

Not that he was any better…

Focus. Wanting to move or not, things could get worse in an instant.

++Everyone here?++ Miss Martian asked, and he sent his assent.

++Good. Next check-in in-++

++We've got incoming,++ Match reported. ++Looks like a couple troop transports and some light ships for air support.++ A pause, and the tension in the air racheted up another notch. ++They've spotted us.++

Spotted the ritual, he meant. The soft red-gold light was faintly visible even as far distant as Roy was, and that was in daylight.

++Match, Superboy, deal with their air support. Red, Artemis, Flash, Miss Martian, handle the ground troops,++ Aqualad ordered.

Roy nocked an explosive arrow as he sent another acknowledgment.

It was time to go hunting.

 **12:57 PM**

There was only movement, now. No time for thought, just-

- _duckroll, loose, notchanddraw, another, again,_ -

-movement, muscle memory as he flitted from cover to cover. Never stopping. If he wasn't moving, he was a dead man.

++-can't hold them, they're breaking-++

Notch draw loose, another Reach soldier down, more to come.

His breath burned in his lungs, his shoulder ached where a Reach beam weapon's near-miss had burned him, but he pushed on.

Notch. Draw. Loose.

One lost his beam rifle to an arrow, drawing a crackling baton, and he slammed the limbs of his bow into the soldier's gut as he closed the distance at a run. The alien soldier folded like wet cardboard, and he felt grim satisfaction as he turned his own baton against him. A second fired, and he used the unconscious one as a shield, letting armored plating char until the soldier's weapon overheated. The soldier-turned-corpse fell from his hand and an arrow took its place, sent winging on its way into another faceplate.

++Roy, get clear, they're-++

The world went white, then black.

Pain. It was distant, but it was there, all over his body. He couldn't see, couldn't move, could barely breathe.

Was he going to die here?

 _Get up._

A voice. Where-?

 _Damn it, Roy, get up! They need you._

He had nothing left. What could he-

 _C'mon, buddy. I know you can do it. You're the stubborn one, remember?_

He tried to move, and the pain flashed through the darkness, turning it bloodred and making him scream.

He couldn't-

 _Yes you can. You're strong. Heal, I know you can._

A sensation like cold water spread over him, and as it passed he could _feel_ again. It reached his eyes, and sight returned, scorched earth and distant, burning trees.

Pressure in his back, things shifting under his skin.

A thought, and they spread outward, pushing past and protruding into his vision. Blood-colored shards of crystal, but they felt...right. Like taking a breath of fresh air. The- _wings_ \- flexed at his command, and Roy smiled.

 _That's the way, buddy._

Reach soldiers were coming. Every sense felt like it was in overdrive- he could smell them, the reek of metal and plastics, the sharp foreign scent of their bodies. The universal reek of fear.

 _Have fun._ The impression of a smile flitted across his mind. _And Roy? Try to stay whelmed._


	7. Chapters 6 point 3 and 6 point 4

Judging by the latest review, someone seems to be under the impression this is ending. I can reassure you it is not.

Anyway, going to be updating chapter-to-chapter here now that things are caught up.

Still not sure what time it is

No fucking idea, how about you

"Yeah, me," the apparition in front of me says. "Do you have a problem?"

I raise my eyebrows. "You appear to have stolen bits of me for yourself," I say, making a gesture towards him.

The doppelganger across from me is fucking eerie. While about...a third of me, the third that's missing from my own body, looks normal, the rest...it's a strange imitation, like looking in a fractured mirror. Things don't seem to quite...fit.

"You can blame little miss telepath for that," my double says bitterly. "She did rip off a chunk of our mind and soul. Usually, that'd kill someone, but well…"

"We're weird little bastards."

He nods, sending light scattering off his head in rainbow colors. "True enough."

There's a moment of silence.

"This is some surreal shit," I mutter, looking around. Whatever this room is, there's no trace of the doors I entered whole place looks like it's been carved out of marble and granite, perfect corners and absolutely level floors. Creepy. "So, what happens now? I mean, you could probably make a new body later...dealing with two of us is probably going to be strange. But first we've got to get everyone out of the simulation."

My double's face stills, and he sighs. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

Ah. Should've known it wouldn't be easy.

"See, I'm only here because the simulation is. I was pulled into it, and now...I'm so deeply entwined, I'll die if it ends." He smiles wryly. "I'm sure you can see why-"

I punch him in the face, and the marble floors crack.

My double reels, spitting blood, and I follow up, slamming punches into ribs and throat and gut, before tendrils of crystal slash through the air and I'm forced back with burning gashes across my chest.

"I'm not going to let you kill me," my double snarls, crystalline imitation flesh shimmering. "You self-righteous bastard, you think you can just walk in and do whatever you like?"

"You are trapping my friends in an ever-escalating hell," I say calmly. "So, yeah, kinda."

Crystal lashes out, pulling itself out of the stonework, and blood and bone and muscles strikes against it, shattering it before collapsing again and vanishing into nothingness.

"So what? Going to kill me? I am you."

"Not all of me," I say flatly. The marble floor shatters under my feet, flickering away and being replaced by a dirt path and a crossroads, then by a city sidewalk, then a mountain trail. I ignore the scenery.

My target is in front of me.

"No," my double says with a smile, suddenly a distance away. "But what happens if you kill me? What part of yourself are you going to cut away? Ethics? Mercy? Hope?"

All it takes is an effort of will to appear in front of him and bury suddenly clawed fingers into his gut. "Apparently, mouthiness."

Blood trickles from my double's mouth, but he grins anyway and is gone again, reappearing apparently unharmed. "You'll have to do better than tha-at," he sing-songs.

Spears of crystal flicker through the air, fast as thought, and meet counterparts in bone. Shard and the Red clash against each other, and are stalemated. I walk forward, supported by nothing just as my counterpart is. "I don't care if it kills you. You hurt my friends. It ends."

"Heh. You know I'm you. That little tough-guy act doesn't help, I know how you really think." He smiles.

"You're not doing this for them. You're doing it because you're playing a role."

The tendrils break through a barrier of blood, tearing into my arm and leg, and I stumble as flesh outright vanishes off my bones. I'm still standing, despite missing the muscles that should be letting that happen.

"So we're going to have a fight with words that lets us actually hurt one another?" I muse. "Fine, then." I crack my neck. "A role? That's the best you can throw at me?" I say. "You sure you're me?" The torn-away muscles return. "We all have roles to play, we're all puppets. You're me, you know the Dr. Manhattan quote."

"'So you'll just be whatever they want from you, rather than yourself? Cowa-"

Another effort of will, and a blade of bone appears in my hand as I find myself behind him. He rolls, but it still carves a chunk of crystal out of his back, ripping into the bits that technically are mine. He falls, and this time he's not allowed to get up as I slam the blade through him, pinning him to the shifting ever-changing ground under our feet.

"Anything else to say?" I ask conversationally.

"Still...lying..." he chokes out. A tendril sweeps, and shatters before it even reaches me.

"Really?" I ask. "That's all you've got?" I shrug, and crouch down next to him. "You're supposed to be me, you should know what I think about lying. Everyone does it, all the time. And yes, I do it. But I actually like these people, and so I'm their friend, even if I don't tell them everything. You can try to hammer on my insecurities as much as you like, doesn't make any difference in that fact."

"You're going to...kill me, and you say you're still better?" The sword breaks off, and the fucker is back up again. "You're not any better than those self-righteous fools on the League, all convinced the best solution to the big problems is punching muggers in the face. And as for the hell you claim your friends are in...tell me, what of those you've devoured yourself? Their souls are trapped, screaming, bound to your will and never knowing release. Can you still call yourself righteous, hero?"

That...he's me. He shouldn't be sounding like this, so angry. I've long since made my peace with what I've done when I wasn't in my right mind. Why is he…

Psychic power. Part of me. Hates being imprisoned, sadistic and loves to tear people apart.

"I see you," I snarl. "Psimon."

There's no shift, no gradual change, just the crystalline flesh replacing itself with the sneering transparent-brained visage of the psychic. The only part that remains the same is the piece of me that he's stolen.

"So there is a spark of intellect in that pile of stolen souls you call a mind," he of crystal rip through the air towards me, and I'm forced to dodge desperately, everything I've got forced on the defense. "I know what you are, boy. I know what you hide from yourself. You can lie to yourself but you can't hide it from me."

"The hell," I grunt as I duck under a scything blow, "are ya jabbering about?"

"You aren't human, you never were, and even if you think you're the first one you devoured, you're nothing more than what you've stolen."

The crystal punches through the bone, and slams me into the ground, pinning me down.

"You think you're Grant, you think you're human, but you're just...Legion," Psimon says with a sneering smile. "A demon, a creature, a monster. Lie to yourself all you like, put on that mask...but you can't hide what you are. So stop trying."

Tendrils bury themselves into me, but I ignore the pain.

I'm human, in mind if not in soul...aren't I? I'm more than just my power and nature. I have to be, I have…

I don't have to be anything.

I simply am. Mask or not.

Fine, then. He thinks I'm hiding? He sees something inside me that's scary? Let's see how he likes it coming out to play.

I reach down...

"Very well," I grin, and there's not a speck of humor in it. "If you continue to insist..."

The mask is discarded. And I become...other.

The world shifts, becoming one of sense-impressions, the reek of spilled life and the hunger pulsing within, as We fall apart into the tide of Red that is Us.

When hope is gone

Remove this lock.

And send us forth

On a moonlit walk.

"Why bother trying to hide it, then?" We say in unison.

The crystal is gone, but We still feast. What was lost to us is returned.

We replace the mask. It serves its purpose. It might be cracked now that it knows, but it will still serve.

I get to my feet, scrubbing my mouth with the back of my hand.

"I am what I am, mind and soul," I say quietly. "Does it make a difference if I choose to act as something else?"

There's nothing left of him to answer.

I move on. The door I need appears, and I take it.

Almost done, now.

1:14 PM EDT, October 23rd, 2010

Roanoke Island

Everything was going something close to right, and Wally didn't like it.

Sure, the Reach had managed to get a couple ships close, but the Super Twins had taken care of it, and Roy was okay. Though angry. Not quite as angry as he'd been after the Fourth, but still pretty ticked.

Roy wasn't the problem, though. Not really.

He leaned back against the bark of a convenient tree, watching the ritual site. Legion's red light clashed against and wove around Zatanna's golden magic while Kaldur used the Trident to carve sigils into the earth.

++Eyes up, Wall-man,++ Artemis said.

He gave her a mental shrug in return. ++Nothing to watch except that. Since nothing's getting by you guys, I don't have anyone to intercept. So I'll watch the light show and keep an eye on things.++

++What, no objections about how it's all fake?++ she asked tightly.

++Shouldn't you be watching the perimeter?++ he shot back.

++Match?++

++Nothing incoming,++ the clone said. ++El?++

++Yeah, can't see anything, even in infrared and UV,++ Superboy confirmed.

++See?++ Artemis said smugly.

++Okay, fine.++

++So, about the magic…++

He suppressed a mental groan. She just wouldn't let up, would she?

++Okay, fine. Magic's real, whoop-de-doo, and we're going to be the greatest killers the world's ever seen with it.++

++You do realize we're killing the Reach? You know, the people who are trying to kill everyone? It's us or them, Wally. And you can't exactly say you're a pacifist. Those ball bearings you've started throwing aren't non-lethal.++

Yeah, he knew that, but he didn't like it. That was the important part. Legion, though… ++Look, I'm all for opening a can of whoop-ass on the buggy bastards. It's just...look at Legion! The man's grinning, he loves the idea! It's creepy as hell.++

++I'll take 'creepy' over 'dead' any day,++ Artemis said coldly. ++You should, too. They've come after us, after family. That…++ She stopped, and her snarl echoed through Kid's head. ++It doesn't matter how creepy you find him, Legion's still willing to do what he's got to. How about you?++

++I…++

++Thought so.++

What the hell. He takes an issue with the fact that he's about ten feet from an obvious psychopath and she blows up at him? He glared at Legion, who seemed to take no notice as he continued to work.

Fine, then. Forget Legion, forget Artemis, he had a job to do.

...a job that mostly meant standing around forever, though.

++...I'm worried about him too,++ M'gann said quietly, breaking the silence. ++He's angry, in a kind of way I didn't know people could get.++

++Yeah, kinda hard to miss that,++ he said. ++He gets pissed off and bad things happen to nations. Or, in this case, literally worldwide bad things. I don't-++

++INCOMING!++ Match suddenly screamed, moments before the Kryptonian slammed into the ground in a blur, cracking the ground and sending up a massive cloud of dust. Kaldur and M'gann darted forwards, but Wally was even faster, and had just enough time to see the black-armored shape of a Scarab Warrior standing over Match, grinning as his arms shifted from rending claws into immense cannons, pointing at the others, barrels glowing.

Wally ran to stop him. He wasn't fast enough, and as M'gann's link broke and failed the backlash hit his brain like the hammer of non-existent God. Unconsciousness claimed him.

?

?

Urrrhhh….

Wake up.

Gah!

His eyes flicked open, and he got to his feet quickly. The others...

Glassy trenches had been burned into the ground, fires were burning in the woods...but everything was silent. M'gann, was M'gann-

++...I'm...I'm alright. Kaldur…++

Wally looked. Saw the half-melted trident, the shattered armor. Looked away again.

The sunlight was turning reddish, why was-

"Enough."

Wally's eyes flicked to the ritual site. Legion was...the man was almost impossible to see, surrounded by boiling red light, a skeleton in the remnants of black armor at his feet.

"We kill them, and they keep coming. We drive them back, and they kill us. We complete the ritual, rip them from existence...and they just bring more ships." He laughed, and it made Wally's spine shiver. Zatanna's, too, judging by how she was edging away.

"Legion," M'gann began, using her real voice as she staggered forward. "What are you-"

"I will fight." The earth shook, and the red light intensified as something- he couldn't quite make it out, not with the light washing out every source of color- began to crawl out from under Legion's feet, sending questing tendrils outwards. "If they keep coming, I'll keep killing them. I'll turn this world into a death trap for the Reach if I must, cover it in armor and flesh and the Red if it drives them away. They think they can just keep escalating? They forgot about me."

Wally had to cover his eyes with his arm and squint as the red light reached a blinding level, but he could just barely make out M'gann drawing closer.

"They will regret ever coming here. Once they're gone I'll return the damage they've wrought here tenfold, rip them asunder and seed every inch of their biosphere with engineered hell, so that for a thousand generations they will-"

He stopped. The light vanished.

Wally lowered his arm. Legion was staring off into space, seemingly absorbed in nothing. Had his brain finally stopped working? What-

"Heh. Interesting. I see how this is," he said quietly. "Time to go, then."

Once again, he was too slow, as Legion drove his arm all the way through M'gann's chest, sending her falling to his knees.

The world went strange and gelatinous, and then he was the one falling…

 **9:02 PM EDT, Saturday, August 23rd, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

We don't talk about the simulation. They don't want to tell, not even the League, and I'm not fool enough to ask.

But M'gann and Elias haven't stopped being in physical contact since then, M'gann watching me like a chipmunk watches a hawk every time we're in the same room. And Robin is flinching at shadows. Speedy and Red Arrow have vanished into the armories and won't come out. Kid Flash has gone back home, Match and Kaldur haven't even shown up, going to their rooms and not coming out. And Artemis...Artemis, to my surprise, has been following me, her power crackling in her hands. Not closely, not directly, but she's made a point of trailing after me from room to room.

Not sure why, but if it helps her cope, I'll let her do her thing.

Not entirely sure why _I'm_ still in the Mountain either, but Batman had growled at me to stay put and then walked off with Robin...yeah, not disobeying that.

In the past ten minutes I've checked at least three times that this isn't some illusion made to fool me even more convincingly than the last.

Eventually, I find myself in the highest room in the Mountain, some forgotten storeroom filled with dusty crates. Why here, I'm not certain, but it's half an instinctive need to seek high ground, half just seeing if she'll follow me even up here.

Sure enough, within a few minutes the door opens and she walks in. "You're a real pain in the ass to catch up to, you know that?" she says.

I raise my eyebrows. "You're really bad at just telling someone you want to talk, you know that?" I say, mimicking her tone exactly. She snorts.

"You're the only one here who isn't either the reason all this shit happened or still having to deal with what they did _while_ that shit happened," she says. "You're sane."

One eyebrow climbs higher.

"Relatively speaking."

I shrug. "You could've just asked. But, sure, what's on your mind?"

She's silent for long moments, and I start to worry that I've already fucked up.

Then she goes up and leans against a tarp-covered crate, folds her arms, and looks up at the ceiling with a sigh as her power flares. "I'm not sure I can keep a secret identity like this," she finally says. "Everything else, all the shit I had to deal with in the sim...fuck it, I can handle that, better than the others at least. But this…" She holds up a hand, the green light crackling across it. "Keep trying to make it go away. It's not working. Kinda hard to lie low and live a normal life if your hands are constantly glowing."

I hold up one of my own hands as the Red sigil flares in tempo to my heartbeat, and silently grin.

"That's different and you know it."

I shrug. "You expect me to do something about it?"

"I _know_ you helped LaTonya Charles with her own power, and she's a rising star with her own company. What, you don't watch the news? Or think the League has security in the Hall of Justice? Heck, the day after you did that we got told if we found anyone having trouble with their powers to send them your way."

Huh.

"So don't say you can't help. I _know_ you can," she snarls.

I hold up my hands. "Have you tried calming down?"

"Are you fucking-"

"Some powers have an emotional component. You're, no offense, a teenager and you just fought your way through a war zone, and lost people. Even if they're still alive, you didn't know th-"

I get a moment to stare at the glowing green arrow in my chest before gravity abruptly reverses and I slam into one of the ceiling light fixtures with a crash. I cough. "You know that doesn't actually hurt me."

"Why do you think I did it? Made me feel better, though," she growls. Gravity turns back on as the arrow fades and I fall back down. The injuries are healed by the time I'm standing upright again.

"Right, so, calming down. You can always try meditation or something. And I'm pretty sure the League can arrange something so that you're excused from school for mental health reasons. Wouldn't even be a lie."

"I don't have anything wrong with my mental health. I'm _fine._ "

I shrug. People who are fine don't attack someone for insinuating that they might have some emotional problems from seeing people they like die. "Let me tell you something about the Red, alright?"

"Don't see what that has to-"

"It does. Here's the thing. The Red...well, healing magic is _very_ easy with it, provided the problem is an injury rather than something congenital. And that isn't just physical injuries. So please, take the advice of someone who knows _exactly_ how human bodies and brains are put together and just how little it takes to fuck with them- stop denying you have a problem. _I_ might not exactly be trustworthy, but surely there's someone on the Team who you-"

"I trust you."

What.

"Come on, moron. I told you my _name._ You think anyone else knows that?"

"Batman-"

"He knows _everything._ "

"Okay, fair enough. Wait. Not even Kaldur?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"Huh. Okay, so…"

"Look, just...fuck, you really think _talking_ about my problems is going to help with me keeping my power quiet?"

"Short-term, it'll probably piss you off, but long-term, yeah," I say, glad to be on slightly more familiar ground. Considering whatever the fuck is wrong with my own mind- and I am _resolutely_ not thinking about what I did to Psimon- I _really_ shouldn't be telling someone they need to open up more and stop being in denial, but whatever.

She grinds her teeth, then nods to herself. "Fine. Sit your buggy ass down and magic up a leather couch if you've got one, I'm gonna talk."

 **10:03 AM**

By the time she finally runs out of words, I know a few more things.

Given how the me in the sim went full psycho, I need to somehow convince M'gann I'm not that level of angry. At least, not _constantly._

Whoever thought up this simulation and didn't bother to account for the powerful and emotionally vulnerable telepath needs a slap upside the head.

As soon as a proper cover story to keep Artemis's identity from being violated can be arranged, I'm healing her mother.

Lawrence Crock Jr., alias Sportsmaster, desperately needs to be located and assaulted with as many venomous insects as are available.

"You know, that's actually pretty impressive," I say speculatively.

Artemis's breath hitches, before she gathers herself again, and looks me in the eye, armor back in place. "The hell do you mean by that?"

"Most people would've broken and gone full psycho. Kinda like your sister did, right?" I ask. "You, on the other hand...you were stronger than that. A better person. Look at where you're standing. Sure, everyone's hurting right now, but you've still got a team around you. Friends. The two of them...they're alone, and they'll always be that way."

"I-"

She stops speaking as I pull her into a hug. After a moment, I let go, step back, give her space. "Better?" I ask.

She lets out a breath. "Y-yeah. A bit." She looks down at her hands, and smiles thinly. "Huh. Guess you were right. It's settled down."

"Told you talking about your problems helps," I say. "Now I probably have to go do the same to Roy. He's nearly as stubborn as you are."

"I'm coming."

"Never said you weren't."

We walk back in silence, but rather than the strained quiet around the Team, it's...calming.

So, naturally, it's disturbed as we get closer to the armories Red Arrow and Speedy has hidden themselves away in, as Roy's angry shouting makes its way through the closed door. Wait...not Roy's. Speedy's, the voices so similar that one is easily mistaken for another.

" _-think I'm that stupid? I_ know _when I've been replaced. Apparently I'm the only one, too, since nobody seemed to notice for_ three years! _So don't act like you-_

I hear Green Arrow's voice, trying to calm Speedy down, and Roy's rising to meet it, just as angry.

Does it count as interrupting an argument between hero and junior twice in one day if one's a telepathic illusion? Eh, leave that to the philosophers. I shove the armory door open.

Two-thirds of the Archery Trio glare at me, but I ignore it in favor of walking up to Roy, clapping a hand onto his shoulder. "Spar?" I ask lightly, as if I hadn't heard the shouting.

He stops glaring, blinks, looks over at Green Arrow and Speedy, then nods. "Sure."

++Deal with the other two?++ I ask Artemis mentally. She nods as we pass by her.

I can practically hear Roy's teeth grinding as we make our way down to the main room and sparring ring. By the time we reach it he's returned to glaring at me again.

"You mind telling me what all that yelling was about?" I ask lightly as we take our positions.

"Yes," he growls.

I raise an eyebrow, stepping back.

"You're going to stare at me until I do, aren't you?" he asks. I answer him with a grin.

"Fine. He was being...weirdly quiet, working on his arrows, not talking. Then Green walks in, asks me how I'm doing, and he just...blows up." He sighs. "Can we start, or are you going to psychoanalyze me beforehand?"

"Freud didn't know shit, so fighting works," I say with a grin.

"Good."

Normally I'd refrain from the more subtle spellwork during a spar, especially one meant to distract someone from what sounds like a fucking _subscription_ rather than just issues. But since I kinda want to see what Roy's power is like…

 _Drosophilia's Perception._

The world slows to a crawl, enough that I can see the beginnings of the crystalline growths on his back. Each separate crystal is formed as electric energy pulls a blood-colored liquid out of the ones surrounding it, before the liquid solidifies into the red crystal I recognize.

After this, I need to talk with the Administrator. It's kinda obvious she's been ransacking my memories of pop culture for power ideas, and funny as it is to have someone spontaneously develop kagune as their power...if the _other_ bits of being a Ghoul carried over to Roy I'm going to have _words_ with her.

I keep the spell running as the leftmost wing lashes forward, hurling a few of the outermost crystals at me. Well, I assume lashing is what it's doing. This sped up, it looks more like a lazy wave forwards, sending the crystals crawling forward in midair. Equally slowly, I bring my staff up to block, lining it up perfectly.

I release the spell, and crystal shatters against bone as the world snaps back into proper speed. Roy darts forwards, wings extending and lengthening into sweeping blades, and I dissolve back into a swarm to avoid it, spreading out and forming swarm-clones around the arena to distract him. He pounces on one, and I reform behind him as he's out of position- only for a bladed wing to rip through my neck without him even looking.

 _Huh._ Right to lethal force, then. I reform myself again as he spins, crystals spraying out and lancing into the closest false doubles, punching right through. Alright. Misdirection is off with him apparently being good enough to know when something's coming behind.

Fuck it, it's not like I have to hold back all that much. I grin, and reform in front of him, slamming the butt of my staff into his gut too quickly for him to react. He bends double, but grabs onto the staff, and those _damn wings_ arch over his shoulders and unleash a barrage of crystals that hurls me backwards. I stagger, but pull him in with me and headbutt him in the face as retaliation. I feel his nose break and he reels backwards. I get some distance- he's _fast_ \- and engage Perception again, buying time to think. In the half-second that takes he's already in midair, wings pointed forward and ready to spear through me, reduced to crawling motion thanks to the spell.

Hmm. There's no sign of damage to him- I can see the bruises healing almost instantly. Part of the package? With a healing factor like that…

Speed of the Tiger Beetle. I dart forwards, spreading myself out into several false doubles of swirling insect life, and watch as the wings begin to react.

Electricity solidifies the crystals. What happens if it's hit again?

Wrath of Orientalis. I slam a palm strike into his chest, and let loose a blast of electricity into him, sending him flying back as I release Perception and Speed. It doesn't break up the wings, and they strike back, hurling crystal at me as he recovers and lands in a crouch, coughing. He looks up at me, and matches me grin for grin.

"Want to keep going?" I ask, somewhat pointlessly.

The next few minutes are silent, broken only by grunts of pain and the sound of shattering organic crystal. We circle, trading blows, speed and raw power pitted against agility, experience, and natural weaponry. Injuries fade like mist on me and outright vanish from his body, and though he can't match Red-augmented strength he's slippery, never letting me into a position to use that strength. I let go of every worry over my nature and being, let go of my fears, and simply _act._ And I see Roy do the same, worries and fears slipping away as everything is pared down to muscle memory and unconscious action and reaction.

"Hey guys what's- _shit!_ "

I stop mid-motion, and spin to face Robin's voice. The Boy Wonder's picking himself up off the ground shakily, a trio of crystalline shards embedded in the wall above him. And off to the side, well clear of the fight…

"How long have you been standing there?" I ask Garfield. The kid grins, and Tyr barks, the terrier panting happily.

"Long enough to get some very _interesting_ ideas," Garfield eventually says, scribbling down something in a battered notebook. "Hey, Robin! Can we go to a raptor center?"

"No experimenting on endangered raptors, kid," Robin says, before glaring at me and Roy. "And the two of you need to watch your fire. I am _not_ eager to die and go back to haunting the team like I did in the sim."

I open my mouth. Close it. "I'm...well, I'm not a psychiatrist or therapist. But I know one. If you want, I can-"

"Grant. We'll be alright."

I laugh. "Yeah. Alright. If you say so, Boy Wonder. Either way, I've got a kid to explain things with, and...hmm. What happened to the Forever People?"

Robin blinks. "The what now?"

"Right. I'm gonna go ask the Sphere. And if any of you need to talk, feel free to stop by."

"You're being friendly," Roy says.

"Yeah, I think I preferred scary Legion," Robin chimes in.

"Y'all are a pack of insane teenaged assholes with far more power than should ever be given people under sixteen," I say in a deadpan tone. "And you're also my friends. So, yes, I'm going to be friendly, kinda part of the deal. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some New Gods to ask very pointed questions to."


	8. Short Announcement

Not a new chapter, just letting people know I went back through Arcs Four and Five and added back the interludes that were missing. They're messageboard-style things, and mostly generated by the readership.


	9. Six point five

**11:04 AM EDT, Saturday, October 23rd, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

"You just...let them go?" I ask Batman incredulously. "They run me over, try to kill me, and you let them _go_?"

"Legion," Superman says warningly.

I stop. Take a breath.

"Sorry. I've had a long and very frustrating day. Nothing on what your _own relatives-_ " -and damn if it isn't satisfying, in a petty way, to see Superman squirm at that- "-went through, but still, not fun. And prone to fucking with my head, which we need to talk about. But, in all honesty, you let them go...why?"

"First contact situations, especially with civilizations that are as advanced as the Forever People's apparently is, need to be handled delicately. Holding actions made in ignorance against a group of young heroes _will not_ help our standing with their superiors."

"And I'm sure the fact they have unrestricted unblockable teleportation had absolutely nothing to do with it," I mutter. "Alright. Fine. Let's leave the judgemental pricks who think they're gods be. If they send another idiot squad over I reserve the right to beat them with each other until they see sense again, though."

"They stated they'd inform the League in the future before sending anyone else over," Batman says. "After they required our assistance to avoid being enslaved by an Apokalyptian scientist…"

"Their egos took a beating," the Flash finishes, appearing in a red blur. "Was pretty funny to see, to be honest." He grins, and I take a step back almost on reflex. I'm sure he's trying to be friendly, but something about it...no, bad Grant, that's your paranoia talking.

I shrug. "Alright. So, then, are we going to do something about the Team, or is this another emotional problem that's going to be left festering?" I give Superman a flat look as I say this, and this time it's him who takes a step back.

"Black Canary and Lantern Gardner have already volunteered to help the Team through this."

Actual therapists. Wonderful. I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding on to. "Okay. Good. And for _why_ the simulation went as wrong as it did? When should I find Mr. J'onnz so we can discuss _that_ hot mess?"

Batman's eyes narrow slightly, but he nods fractionally. "Take a break. Get your thoughts in order. We'll discuss this in the Hall in three hours."

Three hours. Hopefully enough time to think, figure out how best to describe 'part of my soul got ripped out by your niece and was controlled by the remnants of a psychic sadist, trapping everyone in a disturbingly realistic war story' to the Martian Manhunter in such a way I don't have to worry about pissing off the psychic shapeshifter. I nod sharply, turn, and immediately run into what feels like a brick wall.

I pick myself up off the ground. "This is just not my day…" I mutter, looking up at Wonder Woman. And then down at Cassie standing at her side. "Oh."

Shit. I'd run out of Challenger Mountain, then gotten mixed up with the Forever Leeroys, and then the simulation...and hadn't had the time to spare a thought as to what Cassie would've been thinking. Shit.

Aaaand I told Morah to break out the sci-fi closet before I left. Double shit.

"Just out of curiosity, was Morah…"

"Wearing a giant suit of red powered armor and carrying a weapon that looked like the offspring of a pike and a plasma cannon? Yes," Diana replies flatly.

Huh. Would've expected him to outfit some of the Swarm or set up automated defenses. Not climb into the prototype himself.

"I...did mention I thought we were about to be invaded?" I say carefully.

"Do not worry too much, Legion," she says, a little bit warmly. "He didn't do anything rash."

"I assumed that was the case, because you only look _slightly_ irritated, and I'm sorry for leaving like I did, by the way, I-"

She raises a hand, and I close my mouth.

"Legion. Relax."

"You're being dumb, uncle," Cass says, imitating my deadpan and then smiling.

Okay. Deep breaths, Grant. "I'm...gonna just go. Make an absurd quantity of food, maybe fight a Behemoth, get a report on this entire mess written up and then see if I'm finally tired enough to actually _sleep._ "

++[Staysafe]++

I nod in response to Cassie, then poke her in the forehead. "Behave, okay?"

"Okay," she says quietly, smiling slightly.

I let the Red pull me back home.

 **2:12 PM EDT**

 **Hall of Justice**

It's a strange feeling, sitting at this round table with the League members scattered around it. Treating me like an equal, when I _know_ some of them would rather have nothing to do with me. Green Arrow, for one, has elected to sit as far as possible from my own position.

It's unimportant, though.

"Where should I start?" I ask Batman cordially.

"At your involvement."

"Right." I take a moment, thinking it over. "Alright, everyone here knows about how M'gann freaked out when Speedy 'died' during the sim, her subconscious started enforcing it as reality to the minds of the others, et cetera. What _also_ happened is it grabbed ahold of a distress beacon I'd given the Team, and when I tried to respond, it attempted to pull _me_ into the sim as well. The process basically ripped a chunk of my soul free and put it in the sim, due to how I'm...divided, spiritually and mentally speaking. It was...not a pleasant process." I drum my fingers on the table for a moment. "After that, it appears that Psimon was still extant after I...well, ate him. He took over the simulation and the pieces of my soul that had been placed there, with the intention of keeping it running forever. I battled through his illusions, and ended the sim."

"And Psimon?" Captain Marvel asks cautiously.

I bare my teeth. "He won't trouble anyone, _ever_ again."

There's a moment of silence.

"So, would anyone care to explain why it was thought throwing a telepath into a simulation vulnerable to telepathy was a good idea?" I ask lightly.

The Martian Manhunter leans forwards slightly. "The ritual used for the simulation that I created _ordinarily_ would require an entire team of powerful Martians to...overcome...in the way it did, and all of them would have to have panicked at the exact same time for the exact same reasons. M'gann is...powerful. Exceptionally, extraordinarily so, to a degree that has _never_ been seen among any Martian save a Red Martian, our leaders and strongest in the mental arts, and even then…" He slumps slightly in his chair. "As horrifying as it may be to contemplate, what happened here _could_ not have been foreseen. She has _never_ displayed this sort of power before."

"You're telling me this was an accident?" Green Arrow snaps.

"Yes, it w-"

"Bullshit!" he shouts. "I don't doubt that your niece doing what she did was accidental, but as for them being _trapped..._ I think we all know who's to blame there."

What is he...oh, he's staring right at me.

Wonderful. I stare right back. "If you've got something to say, say it," I state flatly, keeping tight control on my voice.

"Fine, then," he says, standing, shrugging off Black Canary's hand on his shoulder. "Maybe if, I don't know, you'd actually bothered to make sure you didn't have a sociopath kicking around in your head. Or if you hadn't handed the Team an artifact linked to your soul without asking anyone more _experienced_ what could happen. Or, maybe, just maybe, if you'd learned some damn _restraint_ and showed it to the Team, they wouldn't have been traumatized like that."

Calm. Stay calm.

"So, you're blaming me for something beyond all our control," I respond slowly. "Really. Is this honestly the best time you could think of to start satisfying your grudges?" I see, out of the corner of my eye, a couple of the other League members wince. "Two of your wards- not the League's, _yours_ \- were traumatized badly enough to develop superpowers, and rather than try to figure out how to help, you're only interested in pinning blame on the blameless." I smile coldly. "Try again, Drama _Queen._ "

He goes pale, and my smile widens slightly. [color=transparent]!AssertDominance![/color]

"Legion." Batman's voice cuts through the stillness like a knife. "Do you have anything else to report?"

"No. I've said my piece."

"Then I think you should go."

I nod, stand, and walk out of the conference room, ignoring the eyes on my back.

 **11:02 AM EDT, Monday, October 25th, 2010**

 **University of Washington DC, Washington DC**

"I'll be honest," the Dean begins, "I almost didn't expect you to answer."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

"You seem to value your privacy, and even the more public heroes, even ones who don't bother with a secret identity, don't do much beyond the occasional speaking bit," he replies. "I understand that- they're busy people- so I'll confess I didn't have high hopes."

"They've got a rogues gallery. I don't," I say by way of an answer to his unspoken question. "And the opportunity to actually teach people magic in a way that isn't the hackneyed master-apprentice chain...well, how could I refuse?"

The Dean, an unremarkable, balding man, smiles slightly. "I'm glad to hear that. Now, you know I can't offer an immediate position as a teacher…"

I shrug. "Thought as much, with the timing. I'm assuming this would be during the spring semester?"

"Yes, a lecturer's position, an elective course. You'd be able to set your own class requirements, provided the committee approves. But, if it's at all possible...we _could_ have a speaking engagement set up for you. Give you a chance to demonstrate something, stir up some genuine interest."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're putting a lot into this."

"I'll confess, it's a bit of a personal project for me," the Dean says. "Are you interested?"

I nod.

"Excellent."

 **12:08 AM MDT, Tuesday, October 26th**

 **Challenger Mountain**

First is, as always, the world's best laboratory assistant. Even more so now that he actually has hands. Well, more hands. I don't even need to ask for tools, he provides them the instant I think I need them. Even with the task of accommodating his bulk in the lab, it's still a net positive to have him around.

This stuff doesn't look like I'd expected it to, once it's under a microscope. It's most certainly not blood like one would think. Instead, it looks more like...well, I'm no engineer. I'm certain that there's a reason for these structures, and that it's _why_ the greater whole breaks physics the way it does.

A brief application of electricity- tiny, tiny amounts, down in the millivolts- and under the microscope the liquid suddenly hardens, coalescing into crystal. There.

"Strength?" I ask.

++One hundred ten millivolts,++ First responds. I smile.

"Action potential. Something's making these things act like neurons." I cut off the flow, and the crystal returns to liquid. "I need better equipment," I grumble, "but this should do for now. No cellular structure, no identifiable DNA or XNA equivalent, just crystals...hmm...silicon binding? No, too ridiculous. And why would they react on the _same_ action potential as a human neuron…" I shake my head. I could just chalk it up to 'shard bullshit' and leave it at that…

" _Recognized: Match, B-09._ "

Huh. Connor visiting again? Let's hope it doesn't end with me getting punched in the face like last time. I roll my shoulders, nod to First, and walk out of the lab quickly.

I'll get to poke at the samples Red Arrow dropped off later. Right now, Connor is probably going to take up my offer, and that takes precedence over literally everything.

I borrow some of the eyes of my Swarm as I walk. Connor looks tired, something that seems slightly...off, really, for him. Even though he's always been quiet, it's been the strong kind of quiet. Seeing his black-and-gold eyes empty and dull is...offputting.

[color=transparent]!ProtectNest![/color]

I _don't_ run. But I get pretty close to it. And so, even with Challenger Mountain's size, it doesn't take long to make my way to the room Connor has headed for. It's practically a match for the living room in Mount Justice. I blame Batman for that, since he provided the furnishings.

Yes. Definitely Batman's fault.

He looks up as I enter, and I sit down next to him, dislodging a featherclaw that had been curled up there. The dog-sized creation chirrups grumpily and parks itself in Connor's lap. "Couldn't sleep?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"So...you came to the guy who doesn't actually sleep."

"You're the one who said you'd be here to talk," he responds. One hand scratches the featherclaw behind the horns.

I grin. "Fair enough. What's eating you?"

"You know how Superman's been...kinda weird, about us?"

"Considering it's probably half the reason Elias is his usual grumpy self, yeah," I respond.

"He tried to stop by and talk this morning."

"Tried…?"

"Elias...um...Elias kicked him in the balls."

I can't help it. I start laughing.

"It's not funny!" Connor protests weakly.

"Superman finally finds the balls to talk to his clones, and then gets kicked in said balls! Hah!" I get out between breaths. "That's fucking _hilarious_ , is what it is."

He punches me in the shoulder. "You're being a jackass again."

"Hey, he's your brother." Alright, serious time. "But I really don't think that's the reason you can't sleep."

"No," he admits, "but it doesn't help."

"The sim?"

"Yeah. Some...pretty bad nightmares."

"Reach?"

"The Beetles. Just before the sim broke."

I sigh. "Heavy shit."

"Yeah." There's silence.

I stand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" he asks, doing the same. His feathery companion simply climbs on to his shoulder as he does so, climbing up his jacket with clawed hands.

"Labs. Red Arrow tell you why he came here for a bit?"

"Said he had to drop off something important. Then he went back to sparring with Kaldur."

"Normal, healthy, cathartic reaction to stress, see?"

"And me having nightmares about the Team...the Team dying, isn't?" Match's voice hitches slightly, but he puts on a bantering tone.

"Oh, no, that's normal too. I was thinking about what I do when I have to exorcise metaphorical demons." I reply.

"Invade the Middle East?"

"Ha-ha. No. More 'do science to things until an abomination of nature results'."

"So _that's_ why you made the Swarm."

"... honestly, I don't have a rebuttal to that," I finally state.

"Thought so. But seriously, why are we going to the labs?"

"I figured boring you to sleep with complicated explanations of whatever the hell the stuff Red Arrow grows from his back would help."

"Well, tell me now, and save us the walk."

"You have no sense of dramatics, but fine. I think it's his shard."

Connor stops. "What?"

"Yeah, not sure myself but it responds to electrical signals, is made of crystal, and passively emits a bit of almost every bit of the electromagnetic spectrum and a few exotic energy bits as well. So, probably a bit of his shard. Might be a sensor rig, might be data collection, might be emitting mind control beams, I don't know."

"And...making an abomination of nature…"

"I have a theory." A theory based mostly on metaknowledge, conjecture, and an idea of Administrator's willingness to troll, but still a theory. "Bet you fifty bucks Red's powers get stronger over time, especially when he beats someone."

"This is the opposite of helping me sleep."

"True. If sleep's _all_ you want, I could just knock you out for eight hours. Like flicking a switch."

"How the-"

"Magic is bullshit, my dear Kryptonian."

Connor groans, then smiles. "Actually, if you can make it so I don't dream-"

"Easy."

"Then yeah, do that."

I tap him on the forehead, and he hits the ground snoring.

It's only then I realize that now I've got to carry the big lug back to the couch.

Fuck it, this is what Hunters are for.

++[Indignation,]++ First rumbles, coming around the corner.

"Hey, y'all live here, least you can do is help with guests," I respond with a grin.

++They would run away, most of them. Hunters are not pretty.++

"Eh, fair enough. Now get his legs."


	10. Six point Six

**AN:** Hello.

Irate guest reviewer: congrats, your rambling wall of text has completely convinced me to abandon all of my plot. Yes. Oh, and by the way, Young Justice is part of the DC Universe, not Marvel. That tip's free.

 **7:43 PM EDT, Friday, October 31st, 2010**

 **Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City**

I pop into existence, and immediately duck as a lead pipe swings through the air. The attacker goes down hard to a backhand, and doesn't get back up. I straighten. Now where-

"Legion!"

 _There_. I vault over the wall of green flames that's keeping most of the other attackers at bay, and land in a crouch.

Zatanna doesn't look good, bloodied, battered, and unconscious, but the worst of it are the ragged stumps where her legs just...end, halfway down the thigh. She should be bleeding out...then I notice the green glow around her.

"Stasis?" I ask, kneeling down beside her, and across from me, Artemis nods flatly, one eye on the area of the museum outside the flames, where the sounds of battle are still raging.

"Need to keep reapplying it," she says. "Someone tossed a grenade, and-"

The green glow winks out, and Zatanna starts, blood starting to pour from the stumps.

Benediction of the Red. Be healed.

Red light surrounds her, and the blood stops, then pulls itself back in. Painstakingly slowly, new bone and muscle begins to grow from where it had been removed.

"What the hell is going on?" I ask Artemis as the spell does its work.

"We decided to go on patrol, blow off some steam. Picked up police chatter, there was something big going on here, looked like a heist. We snuck in, didn't want to take them on directly. Turns out it's a group of crazy people led by some four-eyed freak, fighting someone equally crazy with a sword. Four-eyes knew we were here somehow, set some of his groupies on us while the rest went after sword-guy. Got rid of most of them, and after Zatanna got hurt I set up some fire and grabbed that weird beacon-thingy."

"You have that...why?"

"Half the Team was giving it looks like they were considering burning it. Figured getting it out of the Mountain was a good idea, and hey, it got you here fast."

"League's occupied and so is Doctor Fate, so it's a good thing you had it," I mutter, double-checking the spell's progress. "Half the magical threats on the planet decided to pull some shit tonight, or get their shit stolen by someone else. This is why I fucking hate Halloween. Always some mystical bullshit."

"Well, at least you can stop part of it here, right?"

A distant explosion sounds, and I see people go flying. I stand. "I'll deal with them. Keep an eye on Zatanna."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Sarcasm. Well, at least she's not in shock, then.

I call on the insects, and they answer as I walk forwards, Artemis's wall of unnatural flame parting around me. Some of the still-conscious fighters- street clothes, nothing out of the ordinary beyond the crazed grins on their faces and the variety of military-grade weapons they carry- try to resist, whether through bullets or explosives or, in one particularly dumb bastard's case, trying to stab me with a knife. I grab his arm, reach in, and shut down most of his nervous system, cutting the flow of the Red's properties through them. He drops like a stone as his muscles refuse to obey his commands, and I pull the knife free without breaking stride. I note distantly that it appears I don't even bleed now, since the thing looks as clean as when it went in. The swarm of biting, stinging insects brings most of the rest down as I head toward where the fighting is loudest.

Broken and bleeding bodies litter the museum floor, exhibits smashed, bullet holes pocking the walls and scorch marks everywhere. I keep the swarm from devouring the bodies- the police will be rather miffed if I destroy all their evidence, and there's nothing I can use from a group of cultists- and move on as flashes of orange light come through a half-destroyed door.

"Mortal. You may have closed yourself off, but you still _feel_ ," a voice hisses. "Give me the sword. You wish to please me, don't you?"

"Harm does," another voice admits, male, harsher. Around the corner. The swarm sweeps around, sending out scouts, and I put together what they see.

The one with the sword looks like he robbed the 90s for his clothing, wearing a torn-up trench coat, boots, pants, and nothing else. He'd look ridiculous if not for the sword in his hand and the glowing symbol over his heart. His skin is pale, unnaturally so. The other, as Artemis said, has four eyes, each glowing orange, and wears a black suit. He's unarmed, but orange flame I'm assuming is hellfire flickers over his hands, not harming the dark skin.

Pale edgelord versus a...demonic cult leader? Did I enter a portal to the 90s?

Pasty guy lowers his sword. "Harm loves this it, Harm does," he says slowly, and the cultist's smile widens as the trenchcoat-clad idiot steps forwards, making them close enough to touch.

"But Harm already has killed the secret it for this sword, and Harm loved that more."

Before four-eyes- or I- can react, he drives the sword in, punching through the demon completely. The infernal being spasms, then vanishes into a gout of flame, that then is pulled into the gruesome scabbard in- I guess his name is Harm?- Harm's offhand. The sword glows orange for a moment, then subsides.

I step around the corner. "Alright, mister nutbar. Put down whatever that thing is, and come quietly. One chance."

Tall, pale, and edgy smiles. "The it waited until the lover's it was dead. Did the it think Harm would weaken? Regardless, Harm will not let the it take him. Harm sees what it is and wants no part of the it's hunt."

"Okay, chance gone, time for your beating."

"Harm thinks not." A wave of the sword, and a blast of orange energy streaks through the air.

Shell of the Ironclad kicks in, and the blast blocks my vision as most of the bugs in the room are incinerated instantly. I feel some move anyway, caught in the folds of the murderer's coat, and those few move through the air and out of a skylight at incredible speed. By the time my vision clears, he's gone.

Alright. Priorities. Nutbar will keep. If he tries anything...a brief check, and insects near him turn their gaze to him. He's following the rooftops, running flat out. Not doing some weird predator bullshit.

Elsewhere, I direct insects to those of the injured who can still be saved, as I jog back to Artemis and Zatanna. The spell's still doing its work, and the flames are gone.

Artemis straightens up from one of the idiots, having dragged most of the survivors- and there's only half a dozen of those compared to the twenty or so dead- into a group of mutual unconsciousness. Her power flares for a moment, then subsides. "The two guys fighting?" she asks.

"Harm- the one with the sword- killed Four-eyes, then buggered off. I'm tracking him. You up for handling the police and keeping these guys down?"

"Easy. Zatanna will be alright?"

"Probably be a bit shaky for a while, but she'll live," I say. "I'm going after Harm as soon as the spell's done."

Which will take a few minutes more. I sit with my back against the wall and wait, still tracking the crazy bastard across the city. The rest of the insects in the museum scuttle back towards me, into my coat, and join me.

Eat your heart out, Skitter. My range is 'yes', and I can carry around as many insects as I like.

"So, the Team doing okay, so far?"

Artemis shrugs. "A lot of talking. M'g- Miss Martian cries a lot, but I think she's getting better. And Red's been practicing a lot with his own powers. Kid's...been Kid."

I nod. "You know, there aren't any cops outside."

She facepalms. "Seriously? A firefight breaks out and they're not going in the moment it stops?"

"About a block-wide perimeter, but I think the glowing magic blasts and sound of high explosives means they're still waiting on S.W.A.T.," I answer. "You got a cell phone?"

"You don't?"

"Left it in Challenger and too lazy to get it."

"Fuck you, but I'll call it in. Go get the crazy son of a bitch. Spell's done."

I look. So it is. And Harm's descending into an...abandoned house? Either way, it's got a back gate. And...a grave? A pet?

I stand again. "Good luck, don't get shot by a trigger-happy cop."

"You're being paranoid."

"Doesn't mean it won't happen."

 **8:13 PM EDT**

The gate creaks almost inaudibly as I open it, moving slowly and carefully.

I can take almost anything that is thrown at me, normally. But whatever that sword is- and with a scabbard like _that_ , it's got to be important- it sucked up the essence of Four-eyes like a hyperactive toddler would a juice box. I don't want to find out if it does the same to me.

There's the grave.

It's not one for a pet.

GRETA HAYES.

BELOVED SISTER.

There's no year on it, no indication of when she died, but there are flowers there, still fresh.

And there's something…

I straighten, and nod in the direction of the fence. "I know you're there," I say quietly. "Now, the question is, _why_ are you here? Business to finish?"

The girl is simply there, between one moment and the next. White cloak, white hair, the same pale skin as Harm, and a silver brooch. She'd look like anyone else to most, but there is no hint of the Red to her, no body. Just a soul. "Secret."

Hmm. I remember one hero by that name, but she was made of smoke. Can't remember if she had a brother or not...but not important.

"And how did you die, then? Or is that secret as well?"

Harm is heading downstairs, but he's not near any windows yet. He still doesn't know I'm here.

Greta shrugs, and holds out her hands. The image of a dagger appears between them.

I look back at the house. "Him?"

She nods.

I see. "He ever explain why?"

A shake of the head. "Secret."

"Right."

Insects pour from under my coat and out of the scant cover afforded by city streets, flooding into the house and driving Harm back. A blast of energy from the sword kills some, but by no means all, and he breaks and runs.

Towards me.

The back door bursts open, and Harm stops dead as he sees me standing there.

"Care to explain yourself?"

Out of the corner of my eye, Greta steps back, looking worried.

Harm _smirks_ , as his eyes glow orange. "She was the only thing Harm ever loved. And so to keep Harm's heart _pure_ , she had to go."

Okay, then.

I pull myself deep into the Red, letting it flow and rage.

"Little girl. Close your eyes."

Harm raises his sword, fire burning in his veins. I raise my staff, and let go.

 **9:02 PM EDT**

 **Tower of Fate**

"You were right to bring this to me. This is an extremely potent mystical artifact," Nabu says, examining the sword intently. The damn thing had flipped back into its scabbard and I hadn't been fool enough to touch it, and Nabu seems wary of doing the same.

I shrug. "Didn't seem particularly difficult to deal with. Most metahumans could do the same sort of thing."

"In the hands of a novice or someone not properly aligned, yes. But if someone enlightened properly, _truly_ pure of heart in good or evil, would grasp the blade...it could even prove a danger to the greater powers." The golden helmet's eyes watch me steadily. "It is a bit like you, in a fashion. For each wielder, those slain with it add their souls to the blade's tally, those killed only being released once the blade has either rejected or been stripped from its chosen. And it carries enchantments to ensure that arcane defenses and the vagaries of avatars and empowered shells are no shield from its wrath."

Huh. "Good thing I didn't give him a chance to strike, then."

"For one such as you, who spreads himself among all that skitters and crawls? Indeed."

"The museum will still be looking for it, though I doubt they know all that much about its more...interesting bits. You think you can…"

"Create a forgery? Easily done."

True to his word, in a flash of golden light an exact copy of the blade, still in its scabbard, appears in the air in front of me. I catch it, and nod my thanks.

"You devoured the man who wielded this, did you not?" Nabu asks. I shrug.

"So what if I did?"

"If that is the case, I have a pair of things, one to speak and the other to ask."

"If you're going to lecture…"

"I am a Lord of Order. We may educate, but we do not 'lecture'. The first is simple. You must understand your nature. Choose whatever mask you like to walk among the mortal realm, but without knowing what you are, and not flinching from it, it will be a weakness."

He thinks I don't get it. Really?

"So I should find being an amalgamation of swarms and dead men kept together by the Red and given the personality of the first thing we consumed just peachy, is that it?"

"Do not put words in the mouth of Fate. You acknowledge your nature, and know it exists, but you do not _understand it._ "

"Move on to the other thing, then."

"You mentioned a girl spirit. The wielder's sister. What became of her?"

"Funny you should ask."

"What. Did you do."

 **8:23 PM EDT**

 **New York City**

Harm had fought like a cornered animal, and I hadn't wanted that blade to strike me, but he still hadn't stood a chance against what I could bring to bear.

In the end, even the bones weren't much of an obstacle.

I nod to Greta. "You can open them, now."

She does, looking around carefully. Then her gaze centers on me. "Secret."

"Yes, I'm full of secrets." I look down at her grave, and sigh. "It's not fair, what happened to you, you know. So much potential…"

She shrugs as I crouch down in front of her grave.

The world's full of unfair things. And people die every day. But her...and for this reason...no. Cutting off everything she was, everything she could have been, for a taste of power…

"Do you plan to pass on? Now that he's dealt with?" I ask, not rising from the gravesite. In the corner of my eye, she shakes her head.

I look back at the house, at the hole bored through it by Harm's attack. "He was your only family, wasn't he?"

"Secret."

"Hm."

The body is here. Battered, lethally wounded, and not capable of tethering a soul. But intact. Perhaps…

Perhaps things can be set right, in a way.

I have the power, here and now. To _not_ use it...no.

"Secret?"

"Give me a moment," I say, rising. I look at her. A ghost, barely there, trapped between life and death. Put there through no fault of her own, because it was just _convenient._

"Greta Hayes. Would you live again, to set right the injustice done to you?" I ask.

She tilts her head, then nods.

"Then I shall see what can be done."

With that, I call on my power.

It's different from with Morah. There, the Red's goals and my own were aligned, and I was merely the guiding instrument. The Parliament had its will and I executed it. I had the power handed to me, to reverse his aging and failing body, to make him a young man again.

Now I have only my own power, formidable as it is, and the Red takes no notice of what I do.

The body is dead. The Red cannot touch it, not fully- it belongs to the Rot, now. And Greta's soul is flickering and thin, barely nourished on ambient magic and its own willpower.

Is there enough? Perhaps.

A body is easy. Insects take what is needed, memories of shape and form in the stilled cells, torn away from the Rot's energies and briefly reinvigorated, not long enough to stir that black mind but long enough for the blueprints to be obvious. Still more pour from my form, building themselves higher and sacrificing their selves to form flesh and blood and bone again.

The body is easy. The soul is tricky.

She cannot be housed in a body formed of the Red without herself being of the Red. And while that task is simple for the multitudes within me, converted into the Red's children, to do so without destroying her on every rational level...an impossibility.

She flickers, and I hasten my thoughts.

There has to be another way.

I was devoured. And yet I still function. What was the difference that made me the ruling mind? The shard's interference?

I feel her stir in the back of my mind, and push her away. Not today.

No. There had to be...a catalyst. Something within me that made it easier, for the Red within me was not always so strong. Something that changed me. There had to be.

I pull part of myself away. Raw soul-stuff, built from the Red, refined and broken down from whatever wretched things had come across me and been eaten.

With a gesture, a thought, the Red seed is planted into the fading soul. Red light strengthens her, ties her to her body, animating it and imitating the one who gave it life as it tries to seize some of the insects around it. I ward it off, a warning growl, and then, gradually, reluctantly, resume control.

My knees go weak and I lean on my staff to keep from falling.

But the voice I hear is confirmation enough, even if my vision is blurry from exhaustion.

"Holy crap it worked. And I can talk!"

 **9:08 PM EDT**

 **Tower of Fate**

Fate stares flatly as Greta does a curtsy. The white of her clothing has changed to a dark red, matching my own coat almost perfectly, and making her look even paler than usual. "It's nice to meet you, Doctor," she says. "I saw you on TV, once. You looked taller."

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. Hayes. Welcome to the Tower."

"This place looks awesome!"

"There is indeed much to be in awe of. There are also many dangerous things. Do not touch anything."

"I'll be good."

"Then keep to those words. Your progenitor and I have something to discuss."

"Okay!"

Fate leads me through a door and into a comfortable-looking room, something that looks like it came out of the last century.

Strange that Khalid hasn't been redecorating. Or maybe he has and he likes this stuff, just like Dr. Nelson did. Aaaand I'm focusing on interior decorating rather than talking to the Lord of Order. Focus, Grant.

"You going to tell me off for doing it?" I ask.

"It would be hypocritical of me to criticize you for finding a way to defeat Death," Fate says. "But I must warn you. There is always a price to be paid, for such things."

"You gave up your body for life everlasting. Others sell their souls. The Gentleman Ghost is, well, a ghost forever for the same reasons. And I'm...whatever I am. I know there's a price, and I know it'll come due on me eventually for doing this."

"And you are still willing to pay it?"

"Whatever comes to pass, I did what was right, and I'll pay the price knowing that," I say with a shrug. "So, yeah, it'll be worth it."

Fate pauses. "And what if your own masters seek to use her against you, should you turn from their causes? The Parliament of Limbs is not immune to error, nor are they always a benevolent force for good. What shall you do then? She is as dependent on the Red for survival as you are, if not more so. And while they would be loathe to harm a useful tool..."

"Kill them, start a new Parliament. Happened once already, can happen again," I say flatly. "Ain't nobody going to harm her because they can."

"Very well. I would advise you to tread carefully, Champion."

I flash a smile. "Like it's a minefield, Lord of Order."


	11. Six point seven

**8:38 AM MDT, Tuesday, November 2nd, 2010**

 **Challenger Mountain**

"What is it with you and finding traumatized kids?" Robin asks with a smirk as he and Cass step out of the Zeta tube. Greta shrinks back, trying to hide herself behind me. Odd. She'd been very happy to meet Morah and Fate, and hadn't even flinched at First.

I shrug and smile. "Big brother instinct, I guess. Welcome to Challenger Mountain."

"What, couldn't get it renamed to Mount Legion?" Robin asks, as Cass leans over, trying to get a clear view of Greta. After a moment, her ears shift into their batlike form, and she stops, nodding to herself decisively.

"I don't have that much of an ego, you know," I retort. "But how about a tour?"

"You can start by introducing your miniature female version," Robin says.

Oh. Right.

"So, Greta, meet Robin and Cassandra Cain. They don't bite. I think. You guys, meet Greta...Hayes…"

I sigh at the expressions on Robin and Cass's faces. "She's already gone, isn't she?"

"Yes," Cass says.

"Okay, not sure why she's doing that, but you still want to take a look around?"

Robin nods, but Cass steps forwards. " _I want to go talk to her,_ " her voice whispers, without her mouth moving.

I check for a moment, borrowing the eyes of a few Drones that are wandering about, and shake my head. "I'll handle that. As for you guys…" A brief command, and a Hunter strides forwards. "Just follow this little guy down to the labs. First can show you around until I get back."

"Your giant insect-buddy. Okay, cool," Robin says. "Now go catch your mini-me."

It takes but a moment to find Greta again, sitting in a corner of the common room with her knees drawn up, easily seen through the eyes of a few nearly-invisible insects I've bred to act as an organic camera network. I flicker through the Red to just outside the entrance, walking in quietly. She doesn't look up, but I know she can tell I'm there.

"Hey." I keep my voice quiet. "Mind telling me what that was about?"

She shrinks down.

"I'm not mad. Just worried. Are they scary to you?"

She nods minutely.

"Okay. They're good people, you know that?"

Another nod.

"You want to tell me what scared you?"

She pauses, then shakes her head slightly. Okay.

I sit down across from her. "You think you'll be alright?"

Nod.

"Okay. I'm going to go talk to them some more. If you need anything, one of the Hunters will lead you to me, alright?"

Another nod, and I hold out a hand. After a moment, she leans forward to grasp it, fingers tiny in comparison to mine.

"...thanks," she says, near-inaudibly.

"Any time," I half-whisper back. "You _sure_ you'll be okay?"

"Yes. Just don't want to see them."

I hug her close for a moment, before standing, and flickering away to join my guests.

 **7:04 PM EDT**

 **Metahuman Solutions Incorporated, Bethesda, Maryland**

"Heya, Victor."

The big guy's entire body twitches, and I mean that literally- his body spikes up like a surprised anime character for half a second, before he turns around. "Legion."

I smile. "Yup. Got to talk to your boss. Got a problem?"

He blinks. "No, actually. Go right on in. And, uh...thanks. Didn't get in touch with you after last time, but...I owe you one."

"Stop by my labs sometime and we'll call it even," I say. "What'd you end up doing?"

"Got to walk and talk, but I'll fill you in on the way. Got a bit of time. You know the way to her office?"

" _I_ don't, but your fruit fly infestation has already figured it out." I start walking. "So, spill. What's someone with your crazy biology doing?"

"Right now? Look." He rolls back the sleeve of his button-down shirt, exposing a dozen different patches of skin, each with a number written on them and their borders outlined by paler lines of flesh. "Medical trials and drug testing are really easy to handle, for me. I just tell parts of my body to react like a normal human's would, and it does, and I can even separate them out."

"Huh." Not revolutionary in and of itself, but it probably removes a lot of liability problems, especially for the more dangerous drugs. "Seems pretty impressive. Anything particularly special?"

"You know how a lot of the FDA really doesn't like any sort of drug that's come from a mad scientist type?"

"O-kay…"

"Right, so since I can't actually be _hurt_ by anything that it might do, I've been working on the more weird stuff."

"Like?"

"Oh, nothing much," he says with a smile. "Just AIDS treatment and a cure for most forms of lung cancer, at the moment."

Are you fucking kidding me? "There's someone who's working on-"

"Was. And the someone was Dr. Sivana, with the lab guys basically copying his notes."

"Oh. Okay, now I see why people aren't exactly lining up. Angry bald men vowing to show them all isn't exactly a reassuring medical presence."

"Yeah, it works pretty well. And we're here."

Huh. That was fast.

"So we are." I shake the man's hand, ignoring the noise of internal screaming as the Red has a conniption fit over his shard-based biology. "Good luck with the medical stuff, and I still expect you to show up. I think I've found someone with similar powers to yours and I want to see what happens if I get the two of you in the same room."

"I'll see what I can do. And good luck with the boss."

"Might need it."

He walks away, and I take a moment to compose myself. Then I knock on the door.

"Come in."

It's been a while, since we've talked face-to-face. I decide on the dramatic entrance, reducing myself into a swarm of insects, creeping under the door, and reassembling in a whirling tornado of chitin.

LaTonya Charles gives me an unimpressed stare. "You done?"

I smile sheepishly. "Yeah. So, what's the reason you called me up? You didn't say."

"Denver finally got back to us."

"And?"

"There's a lot of paperwork, mostly liability things, but they're offering a multi-million dollar deal, with some interesting bonuses if you can make the effects permanent." She pulls out an inch-thick document, thumping it down onto the desk. "Here. These are all the details. Read over it, then get back to me. And don't do anything crazy like Bialya, the Denver city council is still being a bit neurotic over you being there, and I don't want them pulling out at the last second over PR."

I take it, hefting it in my hands. "Alright. Let's-"

The floor trembles.

"What the hell?" LaTonya mutters, as I put the files down and walk to the window.

Another tremor, and another, and at street level the pavement cracks and a green vine begins to grow, pushing upwards at an absurd rate.

What the hell?

It swings around, smashing into the side of a building, and I don't think. Just order.

Insects pour from sewer grates and concrete cracks and backyards, converging on the tendril, but I can feel more forcing their way to the surface, and even the efforts of all of them aren't enough.

This isn't random. Something like this...I'd call it Poison Ivy's work, she's still on the run, but she's always stayed near Gotham. This sort of control takes planning.

I'm guiding people away with barriers of chitin and fireflies and swarm clones, whatever I have available, and across the city I feel people begin to awake to the danger.

But I can't stop this. I'm not of the Green.

But I know someone who is.

"Rain check?" I ask LaTonya with a smile, as if people aren't dying below as the plants thrash and cars are enveloped in accidents caused by inattention or rubbernecking.

"Go."

A step forward, and I'm in a different place entirely, among the greenhouse where a fruit that is both anathema to and in the end the wellspring of my power grows from a single tree.

Time to get to work.


	12. Circumvallation Interlude Two

**8:31 PM EDT, Tuesday, November 2nd, 2010**

 **Mount Justice**

You are Kaldur'ahm, warrior of Atlantis, apprentice to King Orin, and your second home is under attack.

It's horrifying and astonishing in equal amounts, to watch the video as Batman gives his briefing. Their hidden enemies, it seems, are stepping out into the light, the plants clearly the result of collaboration, dosed with Kobra Venom, Smilex, and other compounds, with magical traces as well.

You know thousands are dying, and for the moment you and your team can do nothing, just as helpless as they were in the simulation.

But that will not be the case for long.

The others are tense- Artemis's powers flickering over her hands, Robin hunched in the shadows, M'gann fidgeting...these are only a few signs. You hope you give off none of your own, wearing the armor taken from Ocean-Master and carrying the Trident of Neptune in your hands.

Batman speaks of the League's response, the surface world's champions and heroes moving to counter the worldwide assault, and you find it in yourself to interrupt.

"And what of Legion? This is something he is obligated to combat."

Batman's frown deepens, if such a thing were possible. "Legion is currently out of contact. He may already be moving to deal with it, but if so we have seen no signs."

That is...worrisome. Grant may have been your elder, but in terms of mood, especially now, he is even more mercurial than the other Team members, prone to rage and serenity alike. And this slaughter would only provoke the former.

One by one, the satellite-linked news stations flick off, replaced by static, and Batman turns. This is not part of the briefing.

The static clears, replaced by a face you know well.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the Joker hisses. "We interrupt your regularly scheduled _mayhem_ for an important public message, from…"

The camera, gripped in his hands, pans over, and you recognize this group.

Atomic Skull. Ultra-Humanite. Poison Ivy. Wotan. Black Adam. Count Vertigo.

"...the _In_ justice League."

"We are responsible for the attacks on your cities," Count Vertigo says, voice smooth as silk. "In order for them to stop, we require a ten billion dollar ransom. There is no time limit, but-"

Clapping, slow and methodical, interrupts the man's speech, and he turns as lights turn on, driving away the black and revealing a vast plant at the villain's feet. And revealing the man in red standing near the back of the camera's view, everything behind him thrown into shadow by the floodlights.

"Bravo, you've completed every stereotypical villain action today," Legion says, smiling far wider and sharper than anyone who isn't a sharkman should be capable of.

"One chance, nutbars. Surrender, or die, since there's several thousand people whose deaths you've got to answer for."

"Ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo, bug boy thinks he's good enough to take us all," the Joker says, smiling fit to match your errant friend. "Well, how about you come and try-"

 _Vrr-krak._

That sound will be embedded in your mind for months to come, as sparks fly from somewhere in the darkness, and the Joker, the Scourge of Gotham, the Mad Clown, the Twisted Jester, slumps to his knees, and falls, a spike of grey-colored bone the length of an arm between his eyes.

"Who's next?" your friend asks, and all hell breaks loose.

 **6:39 PM MDT**

 **Challenger Mountain**

You are Greta Hayes, born to Burt and Ellen Hayes. Killed by your foster brother, who took the name of Harm. And reborn to Grant Alvear, or Legion.

And despite everything, you aren't scared at all.

Not when the giant gorilla-thing is cut down by a swarm of Hunters, the insects that had been so friendly now shrieking and terrifying.

Not when Legion is ripped in half by a blast of energy from the zombie in a jumpsuit, only to laugh and reform himself in front of the thing, claws of red light tearing open its chest.

Not when a hand made of vines the size of a man's torso grabs the green woman by the head as her plants betray her, pulling her into the ground.

Not when the man with hair like horns screams words that claw at your ears, yellow-colored light turning dozens of the Swarm's members to ash as an impenetrable barrier encases him.

Dr. Morah turns the TV off then, looking concerned, but you still aren't scared.

Compared to what your brother had been like, Legion being angry is nothing. It's actually comforting. You know how things end.

Your brother...you still don't know. He'd been crazy, you realize that, but he always tried so hard. And you'd learned not to ask questions about what he did. Especially not after the night your parents had 'gone away', and he'd jumped at shadows for a week.

You'd been small, not stupid, and even then you could guess at what had really happened. But Billy- he hadn't been Harm then, just Billy- had been good at fooling people. At making them think he was a good person. Even with you.

And so you'd stayed small and secret, quiet in school, not questioning where Billy made his money. You'd even helped, once or twice, the days he'd come back hurt by something or other. You'd never ask why, and he'd never tell you, but you still learned, by the age of ten, how to patch bullet holes in clothing and people alike. How to get rid of blood from furniture and carpets.

And so had it been, until you'd woken from sleep with cold steel in your heart and your brother looming over you.

"I'm sorry," he'd whispered, as the world had gone dark and cold.

You still don't know why you didn't die. But you'd lingered, and in the end, things had been set right, by blood and bone and, well, anger.

You aren't sure what will happen. Legion had spoken of many things, in places where he thought you wouldn't hear, and the prospect of someone with more judgement than sense taking you away from the person who'd brought you back scares you far more than your brother ever could.

You'll wait and see, you decide.

And in any case, you doubt anyone will have the guts to try after this.

 **8:42 PM EDT**

 **Mount Justice**

You are Giovanni Zatara, magician and conjurer, keeper of Shadowcrest Manor, member of the Justice League, and you worry.

Most of the time, Zatanna is the cause of this worry. Young, reckless, and brilliant beyond her years, it's no surprise that she's given you so many grey hairs, even though you often wish she wouldn't.

This time, though, the cause of your worry is centered on the one who'd saved her life (and hadn't _that_ been an interesting conversation to have, once you'd seen the work of magic on her legs and ended up engaged in a shouting match that you were certain Shadowcrest's miles-distant neighbors nonetheless heard). Not for his life- you glance at the screen, and catch a glimpse as the young man rips something free of Black Adam's back, causing the fallen champion to crash to the ground, shrinking before the swarm of creatures falls upon him- but for the lives of everyone else.

God cares for the immortal souls of mankind, you know that more truly than any sidewalk preacher or shrieking Protestant evangelical. But their bodies in this world were the Red's domain just like those of every other living being...and when the Red's chosen champion was as he was…

It is not his willingness to take lives- you do not approve, but you have seen far too much of the worst parts of the world to truly condemn him and remain sincere- nor even his anger, so common in the young.

It is his humanity you worry for.

You'd seen him grow and change, seen him apply the principles of magic and weight them with the nature of his soul to get to levels a neophyte would have found difficult or impossible to reach, all in a few short months. You'd seen his form transfigured by his unconscious mind into something monstrous so as to defend his friends, and seen the additions to his soul, those subsumed by him in his instinctive lashing-out. You'd seen him after he'd knelt at the feet of Red masters and taken up a mantle for the purpose of vengeance, the first time he'd killed in anger, his mere presence rocking the boat for every denizen of the unseen world as the Red's power waxed alongside his. And every step forward of his since that fateful day, you'd seen him give up more and more of his humanity for the power to sate his wrath. And if what you'd seen the day of the disastrous simulation was correct, you'd seen him surrender the last of it to break free of the tricks his constituent parts played on one another.

The Swamp Thing- and that is the only thing that could have halted the attacks worldwide as your commbead is already telling you- had been like him, once. Human, in mind if not quite in soul, you know the tales as well as any practitioner of your skill must. And now he was nothing more than a half-forgotten beast of myth, prone to striking at all and sundry, regardless of their guilt, if ever something drew him out of his swamps and bogs.

To think of the same fate befalling a young man you once knew, one so full of fire and life, to see him surrender his humanity for yet more power and fall into the very first trap Man and Woman had ever succumbed to... _that_ is why you worry.

For now, you watch, as on the television screens, Wotan's barrier flickers and fails under a hail of silver bullets and the demonic mage falls.

You watch, as Count Vertigo surrenders himself.

You watch as the cameras go black, and pray that Legion will turn away from his wrath.

 **2:13 AM GMT**

 **Undisclosed location**

You have had countless names and aliases, and even now maintain dozens of false identities, despite your distinctive appearance, using them to store fallbacks and caches of wealth and weaponry around the globe. But the first, you remember, Vandar Adg, of the Tribe of Blood, millennia ago.

You have guided mankind's greatest leaders from behind their thrones. You rode with Genghis Khan and Attila the Hun, and when each had begun to turn away from your wise counsel, well, a hidden arrow and a clever poison, respectively, had done the trick. You have seen mankind at last dig itself out of the fear and superstition it had fallen into, building ever higher, and you have approved of this.

At last, as mankind's power had waxed ever further, as more extraordinary individuals began to assert themselves, you watched and waited.

When masterminds presented themselves, battling against the forces of complacency, you watched, waiting to see who would survive their first few stumbling attempts against the mob of mediocrity and their reassuring champions.

And as the world shook in fear at a few select names, you began, at last, to enact a plan you had first developed in the death throes of the Third Reich.

And so it is no object to treat the fellow members of this council as equals. They _are_ equals, with, perhaps, two exceptions- a certain Lord of Chaos, whose presence you tolerate only due to his power, and a madman whose backwards ways are only allowed due to his peerless information network. And you have plans to replace the former, if need be, and have begun subsuming the latter's agents over time. You can afford to wait.

"-keeping him contained will be impossible in the long term," Luthor finishes. "We can bring agents to bear against him, perhaps, but failure at this point will strengthen him beyond even our collective ability to handle."

You smile at the silhouetted images, because you have a plan.

You always have a plan. And the Red, and their practice of choosing Champions, has been known to you since the days of Egypt.

"Gentlemen-" -the lack of an additional 'and lady' rankles, reminding you of the strong woman lost to the Champion's wrath- "-containment or elimination are not our only options."

"You gonna hire him?" Klarion whines. "Ew, I don't want bugs in my lunch, you know."

"Legion, for all his power, is not our equal. But he has _potential._ Molded properly, guided onto the right path...he is willing to kill to do what he thinks is right. Once properly informed, it may be that he shall see the light."

"And if that fails?" Ra's al Ghul asks, stroking his ridiculous moustache.

"If that fails, there will be no mercy. Luthor. Make whatever preparations you must. And...prepare a second team. One to test him. This poor...gecko's tail of an assemblage proves nothing," you say, gesturing at the image on the Light's collective screens, of Legion standing over Werner Vertigo with his staff raised like an executioner's axe.

You smile again.

Despite the Joker's insanity unleashing this decoy in defiance of your discreet attempts to delay him, despite the fact that some assets will have to be sacrificed to the Batman's investigative efforts to convince the Earth's false pantheon that their enemies are indeed destroyed, despite the idea that the man who killed one of the rare few you regarded as a peer may take her place, despite the same man having undone years of effort in a single night in Taiwan, despite the sacrifices and risks you've had to take to ensure mankind will still be set on the proper path no matter what…

Despite all that, everything is _still_ going to plan.


	13. Six Point Eight

**8:51 PM CDT, Tuesday, November 2nd, 2010**

 **Louisiana Bayou**

I'm pretty certain that, if you took a photo, this would end up as one of the overdramatic cover photos on the latest issue of _JLA._ The hero-turned-murderer surrounded by the bodies of his victims, lounging like a Skyrim jarl in some suitably dramatic throne. In this case, the dessicated bulk of the plant-monster.

Still have no idea where Swamp Thing fucked off to after killing the thing, or where he took Poison Ivy, but I can't find it in myself to care.

Oh, it'll probably look ominous as hell to the League when they show up, but…

 _Damn your eyes, child, understand how you must act! You must be seen as judge and master, not a foolish fop atop a stolen throne!_

You know what? No. I stand, walking over to the remnants of the Swarm. Three quarters of the Hunters and Quills I brought are dead, most from Wotan's magic and the aftereffects of Skull's radiation, and those too wounded to move gave their lives to heal the rest. Fitting.

This battle...far easier than it should have been. Atomic Skull's radiation, though deadly, simply hadn't spread far enough before he could be overwhelmed. Poison Ivy and Joker had been eliminated early, Black Adam had charged in like a dumbass and gotten the amulet he'd used to steal Teth Adom's blessings ripped off before being torn apart, and Vertigo hadn't bothered to fight at all. Wotan hit hardest, but blessed ammunition countered _maleficarium_ easily.

How overconfident were they, that they didn't bother with setting the most basic of wards against teleportation? No aerosols, no poisons, nothing specialized against insects...it's as if none of them knew there was a possibility I'd be involved.

Well, the Joker'd been lying low for months, and it's not like any of them could go get a newspaper or cable news out here...except maybe Vertigo.

I smile at the man, shoved into a kneeling position and kept restrained by a pair of surviving Hunters. Not sure what made me spare the bastard. Perhaps it's just to wave it in the League's face that I can use some restraint.

A ruler must be merciful. Good. Perhaps this existence will be tolerable after all.

Eyes from the Quills- a newer creation, for all intents and purposes a giant tarantula with an organic railgun- perched in the trees make out the shapes of approaching figures, flying through the air.

Showtime.

You stand before this era's gods, boy. Do not do something foolish.

I shake my head to rid it of the ringing in my ears- probably some leftover effect from Wotan's spells lingering around- and wait, ordering the Swarm into ranks as I do so. Don't fuck this up, don't fuck this up…

Oh, wait. I murdered Batman's nemesis, the one who he's actually stopped others from killing because he seems to believe the crazy bastard could be saved. I've _already_ hit rock bottom and started in with a drill and nitroglycerin.

Well, fuck it, I made my opinion about everything clear to them, the fact I've ended up in the same place again isn't a surprise to either party.

They're close, now, and I smile.

"Guess I merit everyone at once, huh?" I call up, as the League descends, whether flying under their own power, or atop the constructs of the two- no, three, I see Guy in the back- Green Lanterns. For some reason, Zatara is staring particularly intensely at me. Guess he's still not over my handling of his daughter's legs. ...that came out wrong.

"I assure you, I'm not a supervillain. Though I did eat several." Martian Manhunter's frown deepens at that for some reason. Odd; I had expected that disapproval from Superman or Batman. Forcing a lighter tone, I poke my thumb back over my shoulder, where I've left the Joker. "You can do whatever with _him_ , by the way. Pretty sure he'd give me indigestion."

Considering the choice of allies the usurper has made in previous years I am certain he would do far more than that.

Batman looks at the body, and in his place Wonder Woman steps forwards. "We know you're not a supervillain," she begins, gently but concerned. I think I hear Green Arrow start to scoff, but she continues quickly, also glancing his direction sharply as if making a point. "Why did you spare Count Vertigo?" The Vatlavan noble makes an indignant noise before freezing as the Hunters hiss.

I shrug. "He's not a mass murderer like the rest. No, wait, he is, but he hasn't made a _career_ out of it. Nor has he stood trial. He doesn't deserve to die."

"What gives you the right to decide that? You're not the judge, or the jury. You can't-" Green Arrow begins.

"Gerard Shugel, alias Ultra-Humanite," I say, and I keep talking, drowning out his voice. "Two hundred and eighteen counts of abduction and slavery, three counts first-degree murder. Albert Michaels, alias Atomic Skull. Four counts first-degree murder, twelve counts second-degree murder. Wotan. Three counts second-degree murder, thirteen counts abduction, thirteen counts first-degree murder, conspiracy to commit genocide of the entire human race. Poison Ivy. Five counts first-degree murder, conspiracy to commit mass murder, terrorism." I stare up at Captain Marvel as I pause. "Theodore Adam, alias Black Adam. Six counts first-degree murder, including two archaeologists, Clarence Charles and Marylin Batson- who he killed in a ritual to obtain the power of Teth Adom, former champion of Shazam the Wizard- and seventy-eight counts of manslaughter." And aren't I glad I stopped by the man's tomb to confirm that.

Only because the fool feared my actions. Be careful, boy, lest you suffer the same fate here.

The current Champion flinches as if struck, and I continue. "And last of them all, the Joker. _Six hundred and three counts_ of first-degree and second-degree murder. And all that I just listed? None of it takes into account all their lesser crimes, or the thousands they've killed today with this little terror attack. That, Drama Queen, gives me the right. And if none of you will hand out the justice the dead are asking for, I _will._ And if the price I have to pay to get that justice is a bit more blood on my hands with the whole world knowing and watching...well hell, I've already paid it once, I'll pay it as many times as need be. Because _nothing_ done here is anywhere near what they did, and you all know it."

I stare at them, and some avert their eyes.

"You want to object to that, either fight me or leave me be," I say quietly, not caring that every word I say turns my relationship with the League from 'bridges burned' to 'eradicated the very concept of crossing rivers'. "Because I won't hold back against mass murderers. You might. But in the end, my way saves more lives than yours, even if it doesn't have the same warm and fuzzy feelings you undoubtedly get." A nod, and the Hunters withdraw their claws, letting Vertigo pitch forward as he's left off-balance. "You should probably send this jackass to the nearest courthouse. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go deal with the fact I probably traumatized half the television-watching population of the planet by doing what I did."

Good. Even _I_ am tired of this ranting. Cease speaking, you are committed to this course already.

And the Team. Well...crap.

Fuck it, damage control of everything I was planning now, fix already-atrophied friendships later. Most of them are beyond salvaging anyway at this point, I think.

I turn to go, but a voice stops me. "Hey, Grant."

Guy. Figures. I turn back, and glare at the Green Lantern. He's trying to help, but I wish he'd just...stop.

"Look, I don't know what's goin' through your head, but I've been gone for a while. We should catch up. And if you're itching for a fight then, can handle that too."

The fuck?

There are bodies scattered all over the place, the entire League's shown up in what is probably an attempt to intimidate me, and Guy's...acting like none of that happened.

I can't help it. I start laughing, not caring that it sounds insane. My knees go weak, and I lean on my staff, trying to compose myself. Finally, I manage to straighten. "Sure, do whatever you like," I say with a genuine smile. "I'll probably have time. Just park us out on a desert or something, alright?"

"I'll hold you to that, Grant," the crazy bastard says.

I force my way through the blanket of the Green's power that surrounds this place, and pull the Swarm with me back home.

 **10:58 PM MDT**

 **Challenger Mountain**

I am _exhausted._ Having to deal with calls from, among others, an incensed LaTonya Charles, an absolutely terrified Denver City Council, a far-too-curious General Lane, and a couple dozen news agencies that _somehow_ got ahold of my number (personally, I blame Cat Grant)...plus heading down to the labs and starting up the process of breeding extremophile versions of the Swarm's members with First...plus the drag of the whole fight finally catching up to me...ugh.

I flop down on the couch, wearing casual clothing, jeans and a t-shirt, for the first time in...months, it feels like. Ever since Bialya it'd either been the coat and hat as part of the whole costume, or a suit. Ergh.

I'm so out of it I don't even notice Morah approaching until he pokes me with his cane. "I'd offer you coffee," the former mad scientist says, "but it looks as though you need rest more."

An artificier? Interesting.

I mumble something incoherent, and the older man sighs, taking a seat on the chair nearby. "Was it truly necessary to show the world that? With your capabilities, it would have been easy to stop the cameras."

That makes me lift my head from the pillow. "Not about stopping _them._ 'Bout stopping whoever tries it next. Whole world's figured that out, now."

You've made a statement to the whole world and you expect them to follow it. How naive.

His expression...probably need to explain myself a bit better. "Might be a bit naive to hope the villains'll fall in line, but anyone with sense will keep quiet instead of whatever stupidity they were planning," I mutter.

"Hmm. I assume the frantic phone calls from earlier mean trouble?"

"Not enough of it to make me stop. Might lose some business, but I'm willing to bet our military contracts are gonna skyrocket." I yawn. "Where's Greta?"

"Asleep, like you should be," Morah replies. "Do you even have a bed?"

"Have I ever needed to actually sleep? No, so no." I pause. "She saw, didn't she?"

"Before I turned off the broadcast, yes," he replies.

"How'd she…?"

"Take it? Quite well, considering. She was quiet for some time, and seemed thoughtful, but I believe her past has hardened her to death in general."

"Still not fair to her that she saw that. Should've thought."

"If people put actual thought into things, it wouldn't have been a problem in the first place," Morah says. "Rest. You can talk to her in the morning."

You will talk to her. I wish to see this woman for myself.

Sleep...for the first time since I'd fully touched the Red, seems welcome.

That night, I do not dream.


	14. Teutoberg Opening

**7:08 AM MDT, Wednesday, November 3rd, 2010**

 **Challenger Mountain**

"Hey, mister Legion. Wake up."

Guh, five more minutes, I just... _ohshithowlongwasIasleep?_

"Do you always wake up like that?" Greta asks. I blink myself into wakefulness, and sit back down on the couch. Someone- probably Morah, who seems to think he's my father- has laid down a blanket. Which, thanks to my freakout, is now halfway across the room, draped over the TV.

"Haven't actually fallen asleep in months, kid, so no."

"Huh."

"How long have you been up?"

She shrugs. "Long enough."

"You had breakfast yet?"

"No…"

"Alright." I stretch, feeling my spine crackle. "I'll make waffles, and then we need to talk."

"About what you did to the bad guys? Dr. Morah already talked a bit about that."

"And what did he say?" I ask cautiously as I head into the kitchen. Greta climbs into a seat on the counter, propping her elbows up on the stone.

"Mostly that I should know if you're a bad man or not and tell you what I think, that he kinda agreed with you but thought you could've been less…" She pauses. "De-clar-a-tive. Yeah, that's what he said."

I start rummaging through cupboards. Ah, there's the waffle iron. Now just need batter…

"And so, like the good doctor says, what did _you_ think about it?"

"You're kinda scary."

I pause. Retrieve a bowl, whisk, eggs…

In the name of Mehen, boy, find the courage to speak to your offspring!

"I guess I am," I finally say.

"Good kind of scary, though. My brother was the bad kind. You only get scary because there are bad people. I don't mind."

She is being remarkably calm about this. And on that note, I should really look into getting a therapist for her. And officially adopting her, even though, being dead and subsequently revived, that might be difficult.

"...I don't want you to be afraid of me," I say quietly.

"Why would I be? You saved my life," she says back. "You're still okay."

"Oh, I don't merit good?" I say, forcing a joking tone. Fake it till you make it.

"You do eat people, mister. On TV. And you're made of bugs. So, just okay." She smiles.

"Heh. Fair enough," I say, focusing on making the batter instead.

The waffles are delicious.

 **3:44 PM PDT, Tuesday, November 9th**

 **Death Valley National Park**

Honestly, had not expected Guy to actually take me to a desert. But while insects are relatively sparse...even this place's harshness feeds the Red, a place where only the strongest survive.

"So, you're sure nobody cares if we go all out?" I ask cautiously, tossing my staff from hand to hand. I've left my coat and hat on a rock, wearing a familiar shirt and jeans.

Guy nods. "Sure, I've got an agreement with the park people. Long as we keep to the empty bits nobody'll have much of a problem with it. You're still set on the fight?"

"Hey, you offered. Having second thoughts?" I say with a grin. Part of it might be paranoia- the Lanterns are probably one of the few things that can take me on effectively, depending on how bullshit their constructs are, and fighting Guy could give me an edge if the League ever decides to do something pants-on-head-stupid, but a lot of it's just the anticipation.

Violent tendencies? What violent tendencies, don't have any of those, no sir.

Guy grins back. "Just for that, gonna knock you into next week," he says, ring glowing. "How 'bout this. We talk and fight at the same time."

"Aren't those two things kinda difficult at once? And opposed to each other?" I ask.

"I call it percussive therapy."

"So I should start checking your patients for skull dents, got it," I shoot back, cracking my knuckles, sigils flaring. "We doing this, or what?"

Guy's answer takes the form of a giant green fist.

 **3:56 PM**

I inspect the walls of the orb he's encased me in, while portions of the insect life harry him, trying to force him to drop it.

Answer the man's queries. Do not shy away.

Still have to answer his question, though.

"I don't know. It's, I think, really _easy_ for me not to care about people," I finally admit. "Not most people, anyway. That, and I kinda don't get bothered by anything physically horrible, not anymore." I tap on the green orb, and it wavers the slightest amount before stabilizing again. Guess the hornets are doing their job of distracting him. "So yeah, maybe it's wrong of me to think that way, but it felt...right."

"And why- _ack_ -do you think that?" Guy shouts.

I pause.

Strength of the Hercules.

My first blow cracks open the shield, the second shatters it entirely, and I disperse myself, dodging the blasts of green light and construct traps Guy sends after me. I pause briefly, reforming as a Shell of the Ironclad holds off the constructs.

"I figure righteous anger's as good as I'm going to get, after everything that's happened to me. Might be because I'm angry at a lot of things, might be because the Red encourages instinct and action rather than restraint. But I figure I did the right thing."

Of course you did. You cannot cage a feral animal, only kill it or be killed by it.

Green light surges from Guy, sweeping back the insect swarms, and I send the majority of them back to their burrows. They've served their purpose, and it wouldn't do to destroy the local ecosystem. That leaves Guy to focus on me, and I have to dodge as a half-dozen constructs come at me.

 **4:13 PM**

"You really think making people afraid is gonna work, long-term?" he asks, in that same damnably calm tone he's had during the entire spar.

I straighten from my hunched position just so I can shrug in affected disinterest. "Not about that, it's about keeping the psychopaths in line. They're willing to mess with you guys because they know they'll live through it." I hop, dodging a construct anvil. What next, grand pianos?

He is toying with us. Take advantage.

I smile, and call on the Red to disturb the sands, making them ripple as if more insects are coming. Guy flies up, eager to dodge the faked attack. "Me?" I say, grinning all the while. "They're much less likely to poke their heads out for." He's too distant to hear, but I know his ring will handle it.

"You think you can go it alone against all those crazies?" Guy asks, his voice in my ear even though he's a green dot at this point.

"Call me young, stupid and reckless, but I know I can," I reply, letting the sands quiet. "We done, yet?"

"Sure, kid, if you don't feel like talking my ear off anymore."

"Oh ha-ha," I deadpan, stalking over to my shed extra layers. "You good to make it back yourself?"

"How'd you think I got here?"

"Figured you rode a construct vehicle. Or flew."

"Nah, Lantern FTL. Works great."

 **1:56 PM EDT, Wednesday, November 10th**

 **University of Washington DC**

I really shouldn't be surprised that there's protestors. The Internet had kind of...exploded, after what I'd done, even more than with Bialya. While a lot of people had been supportive, even more had been cagey, worried about superhuman feudalism and the like, though they didn't use those words. Calm, surprisingly reasonable people, really not what I'd expected to deal with.

This crowd is none of those things.

I don't bother taking it in, because I know if I do I'll be too incensed to focus on the lecture. But flashes of the crowd crowd into my peripheral vision nonetheless. I did _not_ think DC had that much of a religious movement, but _wow_ , that is a lot of stuff saying I'm a demon from Hell mixed in with the usual 'murderer' stuff.

Figures, the crazy ones always tend to show up whenever possible. And there's nothing I can do to convince them otherwise.

You allow this mockery to persist? Why?

Just ignore them, Grant. They can't do a thing.

A couple of the cops keeping the crowd back are eyeing me instead. Probably wondering why there isn't a warrant for my arrest. Or just worried I'll decide to bury the idiots in insects like a madman.

Keep walking. It's not worth my time.

Ignore what they're shouting. None of it's true.

Keep moving, step around the one who's trying to block my path, and drown them out.

I step into the building, and let the door shut out the noise.

Deep breaths.

Gnats, fleas, and other insects take a rough headcount, testing the waters, invisibly. A half-dozen places in the front row, they die on contact. Magical practitioners? I invited one, others were bound to arrive.

Eh, if they start shit I'll just beat them unconscious.

How generous of you.

Alright. It's two PM, time to kick this off.

There's no theater, no cloud of swarming insects, no magic show. Just me, walking down the lecture hall's aisles and taking my place at the stage and podium at the bottom.

The air's tense, everyone on edge. I look over the crowd, looking for those who've kept my insects at bay.

One's rail thin, black-haired and twitchy, another is pudgy and looks...Southeast Asian? Maybe Filipino? Not certain, but the thin one has a small spell working overtime and I can see a few charms on a necklace half-hidden by the other's windbreaker. A third, a small woman with huge round glasses, glares back at me. The fourth...well, John Constantine doesn't hide his presence well. The fucker smirks at me. Five and six...one's a pale woman in blue, frowning down at me from the farthest row, while the sixth, who mostly looks like a goth stereotype, has stuck herself right in the middle of the hall.

Interesting. And possibly concerning. Especially if John _fucking_ Constantine is involved. If he pulls something…

Ah, a mortal sorceror. Weak, but dangerous and clever Be on your guard, he smells of demons and pacts best left unspoken.

"Good afternoon," I say into the microphone. "And welcome. Now, you might be here because you're true believers, who think a bunch of New Age mumbo-jumbo holds the secrets to the universe. Or you might be skeptics, who are here to see just what kind of charlatan I am. Might even be a few of you who actually know something about what I'm here to talk about. So, let's get into the thick of it, shall we?"

I smile. "Magic, or thaumic energy, or qi, or soulstuff, or whatever moniker civilizations have come up with over the years, is a form of extradimensional energy. That, however, sells it short by a great deal. What it could more accurately be described as is the themes and patterns of consciousness and subconsciousness given form and life. With magic, all myths are true, all the theories of life and the functions of the body work. Magic is capable, in the right hands and with the right tools, of accomplishing almost everything. So, today, I will teach you the very basics. What to be wary of, how to know your own limits, a basic overview of the players on this planet. Because, skeptic or true believer or deluded fool, when it comes to working with magic, knowledge is most certainly power."

My smile widens. "Let's begin with circles, shall we?"

 **3:29 PM EDT**

"...and that, everyone, is why you _never_ make a deal with fae, demons, devils, or for that matter anything not human and most things that are." I finish. "Trust your own power, trust your comrades, but anything that requires your _help_ to exist in this reality _probably_ doesn't have your best interests in mind. Now, there are _exceptions_ to this, but don't hold out hope and think whatever voice is trying to get you to perform a ritual is one of the good ones."

I pause.

"Alright, so, a lot of you are probably wondering why the hell you all had to sign a waiver with a multi-paragraph list of horrendous possible fates if all I did was talk at you for an hour and a half. Well, I've been saving that till the end…"

" _Don't pull anything. This is delicate work, and if you fuck it up nobody will enjoy what happens next,"_ six insects whisper into the ears of the magic users in the audience. Pudgy guy goes pale, but the others seem unaffected.

"Alright. Everyone, let's take a visit back home, shall we?"

I slam the butt of my staff into the ground, gather my strength, and pull everyone in the room with me into the Red.

Mercifully, the screaming dies down quickly, as everyone- or, rather, the glowing traceries that are the forms their souls take here- gets to their feet, staring at the landscape of gore and bone.

"Welcome to the Red, everyone. Stick together, and don't wander off, because I'm pretty sure you'll be eaten. That means you, John bloody Constantine."

I get a good look at the Brit, and like I expected, he looks like he's been ripped in half, extra bits tacked on in place of the missing one, the whole tattered assembly smoking faintly. The other five...the Filipino and the thin one, nothing special, though the thin one's avatar has a faintly insubstantial quality. The short woman's shining, her features difficult to make out behind the pale light. The woman in the robe appears cloaked in shadows, a quartet of red eyes peering out. And the sixth...it looks like a cutout in the air, a point at where there is absolutely _nothing._

So, two mages (three, counting John, but he's something quite different), something either divinely or lunarly empowered, what I'm ninety percent certain is a daughter of Trigon, and...a thaumovore, probably.

Trigon? Yes, caution is most certainly advisable.

Yeah, was planning on showing them around a bit, but fuck that.

I tap my staff against the blood and bone of this plane, and return the audience to their proper places.

" _I will speak with each of you later. Meet me in the cafe near STAR Labs."_

I get fractional nods from most, and excited grins from the two I'm not actually worried about.

Lovely.


	15. Teutoberg Chapter Two

**AN:** I have an announcement on the SB and SV threads, but I'll repeat it here:

After Teutoberg is completed, We Are Legion will be ending, not because I'll be abandoning it but because the fic will change so greatly that calling it by the same name would be insincere. There will be a sequel, and there are polls on the SB and SV threads to decide the PoV character of said fic.

Now, enjoy the chapter.

 **2:31 PM CEST, Thursday, November 11th, 2010**

 **Paris**

It is oddly alarmingly easy to find her, even in a city like this. Anything can be tracked down with the right traces, and while actually finding her DNA in the sea of humanity would be impossible for all practical purposes, Lazarus pits tend to leave certain...traces, on the human form. And while I can't seem to find Ra's al Ghul with the same method, I'm not looking for him.

Insects are in position.

This should prove a most intriguing meeting.

I give the leash a twitch and walk into the cafe as though I belong there, beelining for the table with a pair of bodyguards. One male, one female, and both I recognize even if they aren't wearing masks. I smile and sit across from Talia al Ghul, silently triggering a spell as I do so. "Afternoon."

She appears perfectly composed, simply folding her hands. "Mr. Alvear. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Ah. First, let me pass on something." I stare at Lawrence Crock. "Artemis sends her regards."

I order the bullet ant that's crawled up his leg to sting him, and he stiffens, a pained grunt escaping him.

Then the other eleven join in, and he sinks to his knees, still not making a sound even as his face flushes and tears begin to stream from his eyes. Suppose that's admirable.

"Do you really think you can get away with that here?" Mrs. al Ghul asks. I shrug, and raise a hand. Threads of Red light trail away from it, spreading out into a perimeter around the four of us.

"Lonchodes' Camouflage. Everyone around us sees a young gentleman enjoying a friendly rendezvous with a young woman and her minders. Oh, and Missus Crock? Kindly don't draw any of those knives. You would find the experience most unpleasant." Her hands drop to her sides in a manner that looks artfully unplanned. "Needless to say, I'll know if there's any retaliation for this. But my job isn't entirely to make threats."

"You seem to be doing it poorly, then."

This woman is either extremely brave or lacks all self-preservation…

I chuckle. "Alright, fair enough. Have you taken a look at Osiris, here?"

She glances down at my leash. Then stares.

The thylacine gives her a pseudo-canine grin in response.

"How-?"

"While the Red cares little for species that fall to changes of climate or the slow grind of entropy, when it comes to those hunted to nothingness by man, it is most generous. The memory was there, all I needed to do was awaken it."

"Are you here to offer an alliance with my father, then?"

HahaHAHAHA!

I grin to match Osiris. "Your _father_ is a hidebound old man doing the supervillain equivalent of yelling at children to get off his lawn. His belief in the natural world has no basis in reality and he seeks the destruction of billions to fulfill something that never was and never will be. I would rather take a walk in hard vacuum unprotected than make an alliance with him. You, on the other hand? Perhaps you're different enough to make a more rational decision. You can work to fix things, or you can learn how making war on the world makes the world itself fight back."

She _still_ doesn't appear ruffled in the slightest. "I see. And why make this offer now?"

"I had a most enlightening conversation yesterday."

 **3:42 PM EDT, Wednesday, November 10th, 2010**

 **Washington DC**

I'm keeping tabs on all of them- even if my insects can't touch them, they can still see- as I walk to the cafe.

" _Don't react, don't speak,"_ some whisper in the Filipino's ear. He freezes. Of course. " _Listen._ _You're the one who asked me for help on a paper, started this whole thing, yes?_ _Nod very slightly if I'm right."_

He nods, resuming his walk. Good.

" _Then understand that you should not get involved. Take a table away from the rest, watch, write down what you hear, but_ do not _do_ anything. _These are dangerous people. More than even I know, I'll wager."_

" _You're_ _Aster Abernathy_ _, I presume,"_ others whisper to the thin magician. He nods, not breaking stride. " _Good. Prepare to shield yourself and the Filipino who will be joining us, if things go wrong. I'm trusting you to keep everyone else safe. Can you do that?"_

A moment of consideration, and another nod. Good. I have at least one form of backup.

Now I just have to hope that the other four...fuck, I just remembered who the short woman is. Thessaly, last of the Thessalian Witches, millennia old and skilled in just about every form of magic there _is_ , able to stand up to one of the Endless with ease. Also very particular about her privacy, and perfectly happy to murder someone, nail their eyes, tongue, and _skinned face_ to a wall, and use it as a necromantic ritual, so long as it advanced that goal.

Well, at least my travel to the afterlife will be swift if you oppose her.

Okay, I'm not going to win this fight if it starts. So don't start one. Figure out why she and John and the demon spawn of Mr. I'm-Here-Because-Satan-Wasn't-Edgy-Enough decided to attend my lecture, but don't push any buttons unless I want to spend the rest of my life in a jar. And then there's the thaumovore to consider. Whatever she's got in mind probably is a bad idea.

No staff, no coat, no hat, just casual clothing, the only thing marking my status the gloves and the brands that shine through them. No weapons save my mind and my magic. Even so, I enter the cafe with a smile on my face, finding a corner table and waiting and watching through the eyes of my insects.

The thaumovore's the first in- she makes a beeline for me, glaring all the while. If she was paler and smiling I'd be very worried, but she doesn't resemble Death beyond a similar hairstyle. She opens her mouth to speak, and I meet her eyes. "Whatever it is, it can wait until they're all here," I say. Her mouth closes, and she glares at me.

The Filipino- Joseph Navarra, that's his name- and Abernathy are next, and both pick out a nearby table as I've told them.

Then Trigon's daughter, cloaked and hooded, which nobody seems to remark on. Probably a minor illusion, but either way she takes the seat next to the goth.

Thessaly walks in without the slightest hesitation, taking the seat closest to me and watching the daughter with level eyes.

John's last, cigarette smoke and sulfur trailing after him. A barista makes to object, and he waves his hand, her gaze turning unfocused for a moment before she returns to the counter. He sits between Thessaly and the goth, looking uncomfortable.

"So," I ask. "John, care to make sure we're not being watched?"

"Done already, bugs," the Brit says. "Now, care to explain what the hell you're doing?"

"Teaching, at least a little."

"Sure, give a hundred-odd people just enough knowledge to fuck up and set them loose. What could bloody well go wrong?"

"Less than if they were kept entirely ignorant of the possibility of their potential," I say flatly. "You here to stop me?"

"Here to warn you that you can't just start up this kind of thing and expect nothing but good to come of it. You pulled them all into the Red just to _show off_ , didn't you?"

"Oh, no. Let's see. A hundred and forty-four people, when you six are subtracted, all of them with their eyes opened to magic and then exposed to the purest possible expression of the Red there is."

"You're making an army," Thessaly states flatly.

"Oh, no, Thessalian." John goes pale at that, and the Daughter shifts her attention to the shorter woman.

"Out of all the elemental planes, the Red is the one that has the greatest potential. A hundred and forty-four biomancers, healers, scientists and innovators. All of them calling on newfound magic to perform the things science can't yet do outside of a few rare cases. Isn't that the secret? That anyone can do magic? Champions and individual warriors worked back when we were still living in caves and using stone tools. It's time magic moved past that era, and actually got used by more than the few."

You'd be surprised at the strength champions can wield, boy, for all that you may have a point.

"You'd drag us all into the spotlight because you think you know better than those thousands of years older and wiser?" Thessaly asks calmly.

"I'm certain someone of your abilities would not be inconvenienced in the slightest, madam," I say politely.

"Alright, so, I really don't give a fuck about the Council of Magic Bullshit thing you've got going here," the goth interrupts. "I'm just here to talk to bugsy here, so if the whole thing's gonna be the two of you spouting ominous shit I'm out."

Thessaly narrows her eyes.

"Hey, fuck you too, ice queen."

Wow. Is this what people think I'm like when I start mouthing off?

Oh, no. She appears positively restrained.

"And your name, miss?" I ask politely.

"Alice. You hunt supervillains, right?"

"More they do stupid shit and I ensure they can't anymore, but close enough."

"Good. Then I want to work for you."

I blink. "Paid, or would you be doing it simply for vengeance?"

"'Course I fucking want to get paid."

"Then I'll find you. Not many thaumovores in the world. You can go, miss."

"Fuck yeah."

After she leaves, there's a momentary silence. The daughter, surprisingly, is the one who breaks it. "I am surprised you let her leave," she says to Thessaly.

Wow, apparently I don't count for much here.

Knowledge is power and these three have far more than you.

"So, satisfied I'm not going to be pulling evil bullshit or anything ridiculous?" I ask the two mortal mages. "I'm just trying to innovate."

"That," the daughter of Trigon says, "is why I am here."

"Was wondering when that would come up," John mutters. "What's one of the Four-Eyed Devil's by-blows doing here?"

"I do not serve my father. And I never will."

Ah. Well, let's hope this version isn't a harbinger of the apocalypse like her Teen Titans incarnation.

"Raven, then," I say. "That is your name, isn't it?"

"How did you-"

"Every spot on earth has insect life. And while you might be careful enough to have wards wherever you go, not everyone is as cautious."

"A half-demon," Thessaly says calmly. "Speak, then, if you truly are not here for something destructive and pointless like most of your brethren."

"I came here to warn you. And to lend what help I can. You will need every practitioner you can muster, because my father intends to take this realm, and if he succeeds in being summoned fully…"

"Everything dies and another world gets checked off the list," John mutters. "Wonderful. You going to tell us when he's coming?"

"I don't know, all I know is that he plans to arrive...and that I needed to be here today, speaking to you all." She looks at me, and sighs. "But for you...your part in that fight is done."

"What, _exactly_ , do you mean by that?" I ask.

"My sight is not clear at the best of times, and it is at its worst around you. But I can see enough to know that your fate and that of this world will not be entwined much longer."

Well, that means either I die (and end up part of the Parliament of Limbs) or I end up off-planet. Let's hope it's the latter.  
"Well, that's encouraging," I mutter. "I'll see myself out, then."

 **2:43 PM CEST, Thursday, November 11th, 2010**

 **Paris**

"If I'll be honest, I fail to see what we have to do with some vague prophecy of future doom. Or why such a thing would inspire you to seek us out," Talia says.

"Getting to that. The Shadows have resources and information. And at least some degree of mystical ability, given your Lazarus Pits. And while Ra's may see Trigon as a solution to 'human overpopulation', I'm hoping you'll have the sense to know which side to be on when everything goes to shit."

"You presume a _great deal,_ Mr. Alvear."

I shrug, then point to Osiris. "Carrot." I point at myself. "Stick." I smile. "The restoration of the species lost to mankind's early folly, or annihilation, not at my hand but at those you'll have betrayed to serve a demon. I trust you'll make the right decision when the day comes."

As she opens her mouth to speak, I pull myself into the Red, heading back home. Morah has something important almost finished and I want to be there when it happens.

 **8:03 AM MDT**

 **Challenger Mountain**

"I've just finished running the integration checks. Everything's in place, and the artificial skin is seamlessly integrated with both hardware and software."

"Very well, Doctor," I say, looking at the forms of Red Torpedo and Inferno, now perfectly human in appearance, covered by white sheets. "Wake them up."

Doctor Morah hits a button on a remote control, and the two androids twitch as their programming reactivates.

It's been a month since they'd gone after the Team, a month since Yellowstone, a month since I restored their maker to health. It'd taken that long to repair the damage and grow the artificial skin Morah's insane doppelganger had ripped off of them, as well as upgrading everything about them to something that could perfectly imitate humans as they had been intended to.

It might have taken time away from Morah's other projects, even the ones that he was actually being paid to do, but that was perfectly fine. These were his children in all but blood, and it was only right that he make them all he could.

Inferno's eyes open first, and she sits up slowly, clutching her head. Morah's at her side in an instant.

"Father, what...what is this? I can...I can _feel_ ," she says, ever so slowly. She smiles as her brother sits up himself. "Torpedo, can you-"

"I can," the hydrokinetic says. "Father, how...how is this possible? What did you do?"

I leave him to his reunion. And his explanations.

A wise choice, I think.


	16. Teutoberg Chapter Three

**2:03 PM MDT, Thursday, November 11th, 2010**

 **Rifle, Colorado**

" _-Vertigo trial received a guilty verdict for charges of mass homicide and terrorism yesterday, despite the defense's claims of 'mind control'. Well I for one am_ very _happy with this news, people. Finally, one of these people goes behind bars, instead of getting to hide behind some bullshit about being insane. I think it'll be a very good day when this man's execution goes through, don't you?"_

"Can't believe they're playing his show," 'Alice' mutters. I just shrug.

"He makes a couple good points, between the conspiracy theories," I say. "Just so happens he's on a good run with the Vertigo trial, I guess. That and the week-long party in Gotham."

I hadn't attended, though lately some of the fan mail had gotten...interesting. It had also contained half a dozen separate assassination attempts that the mail spiders had discreetly disposed of with cleansing fire. Most of those had been magical in nature, too. Though one had been filled with anthrax.

"But enough of Pundit Man. You want to work for me. Why?"

"Do you really have to fucking _ask?_ You put shitheads in the ground, and people love you for it. Figure if I work for you I could get to do the same."

"Really? You want to work for me because you want to kill people," I say flatly. "If that's the case I desperately need to work on PR. I don't hire psychopaths."

"I'm _not_ crazy, asshole," she snarls. A couple people in the diner look up, and I wave them down.

"Then prove it. Give me an answer that doesn't end with you in a cell, padded or otherwise," I say, keeping my voice utterly calm.

She opens her mouth. Closes it, and glares at me.

Careful now.

"I'll take that as you wanting me to answer for you, Ms. Zechlin."

She freezes, going instantly from combative to afraid as I use her actual name, and I press on.

"See, while a lot of people in the major cities died, enough that they're still burying their losses, the spores that Ivy used to breed her creations tended to cluster there. Such that only one of the vines grew in your hometown, and it was dealt with oddly quickly, withering away on its own. Though it did take a cost. Two dead, one missing. Was easy enough to match a name to a face for the last one." I sigh. "Look. You're sixteen. Killing _anyone_ isn't going to bring back your parents. You want to do that for a living, wait two years and see if the military or one of the three-letter groups will take you. If that's _not_ what you're really after...I can offer help. Or at the very least give you a place to stay for a bit."

She snorts, a bit of her bravado returning. "Yeah, and let the police drag me back home. As if."

"I know what you are, Ms. Zechlin. You don't think I feel you reaching for my power?" I ask quietly, ignoring the steadily building nausea. "Stealing it won't help. Nor will mindless killing. But I, and the Red, can offer more than that. Just _trust_ me."

There's a long moment of silence, as I feel her own abilities try to steal mine, watch as the brands begin to burn themselves into the backs of her hands...before she sighs, and lets go, standing.

"Thought you had balls, bug man. Guess I was wrong."

"You're going to keep going, aren't you?" I say quietly.

"Fuck, I'll do what I gotta do. Isn't that what your type of asshole always says?"

"Yeah. And I think that's going to be the case for a while. Reds?"

She turns, but the androids are faster, and the collar in Torpedo's hands, a band of rune-inscribed iron, clicks shut around her throat as Inferno restrains her. Lori Zechlin glares at me with murder in her eyes.

She walks into a place of your choosing and does not expect you to have a contingency? Foolish.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "But I can't let you go around killing villains willy-nilly, and you said yourself that's what you intended to do. You won't be sent to Belle Reve, though. Haven't done anything to deserve that fate."

"Fuck you!"

"Yeah, figured that would be your response. Guys, let her go."

Naturally, her first action is to try to punch me in the mouth. It's sloppy, thumb inside the fist and arm at an angle that practically guarantees she'll injure her wrist if she does connect. I sidestep it easily. "I don't want to fight you, Ms. Zechlin. I will if I have to, but-"

She screeches something highly profane in nature, and tries to tackle me, which fails miserably largely because she's six inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter than I am. I wait for her to run out of steam, and somewhere along the line she starts crying.

...and now she's practically holding onto me, bawling her eyes out.

What the fuck?

Okay I have genuinely no idea what to do now. Playing the mastermind and magitech genius, with a dash of Machiavelli? Sure, no problem. Comforting a volatile teenage girl who appears to be trying to drown me in ocular fluid? Nope.

Of course it is impossible. She is a young woman, after all. And she has lost much.

Some of the other diner patrons are staring. A couple are filming the mess, and I glare at them.

And some of the bugs I've scattered across Rifle can see police coming. Great. I nod to Torpedo and Inferno, and they join some of the more sensible diners in leaving the building.

"Hey. Hey! Look at me," I say urgently, bending down to look her in the eyes. "You're going to be okay, alright? We're going to get you the help you need."

How the fuck I went from restraining her to making her feel better I have no idea. Roll with it, me. I pat her on the shoulder awkwardly, and she straightens, scrubbing at her eyes. "Fuckin'...stupid of me...fucking think I'm a hardass but you just..."

She stops, composing herself, and lets go of me. "I just...I just wanted to actually be able to _do_ something. But fuck, if you can stop me that fast…" She touches the collar. "You going to take this fucking thing off or what? I'm not gonna try again."

"You still think hunting supervillains is the best way to go?"

"Fuck, I don't know. Maybe. I don't fucking know, you seem to have your own fucking problems with the idea despite the fact you murdered the fuck out of the Injustice League."

She needs to moderate her language. Especially if you intend to bring her into your home. There will be children present.

"Look. I'm not the person you need to be talking to. Not about what you're going to do with your life, with your powers. But I know someone who is."

 **4:17 PM EDT**

 **Tower of Fate, Salem**

"I see. Yes, we can certainly find a place for you, and see to what use your power can be put."

Lord Nabu? Here? Of course, no matter the time, all he requires is a willing bearer...still, it is good to see an old friend.

"Finding a 'use' for my power?" Lori says flatly. "Really?"

"Would you rather be useless?"

She glares at Fate. Fate glares back. I wish very hard for a bag of popcorn, and am not entirely surprised when one appears on a pillar that hadn't been there when we'd walked in. The Tower of Fate was a mutable thing, even for an otherwise Orderly construct.

Finally, though, she relents, dropping her gaze. "No. Now what the hell do I have to do?"

"Learn how to control and utilize your power. Learn to be a hero. That is all Fate asks of you."

"Okay. I'm in."

 **2:59 PM MDT, Friday, November 12th, 2010**

 **Challenger Mountain**

I try not to watch TV much. Mostly because I prefer for all my pop culture to be disseminated through the Internet, but also because, even if the raging insanity that characterized most of US politics back home hasn't happened yet (and probably never will given how many butterflies have been industriously flapping), it's been enough to make me reluctant to turn on anything remotely related to politics.

But right now, I'm watching anyway, because it's not about politics. As the last living member of the Injustice League (probably, still no sign of Ivy), it's inevitable that the news would be covering every step he takes outside of his jail cell. In this case, it's for Vlatava. The country had asked that the _former_ Count (his titles had been stripped and appended to his heir, a boy of thirteen) be sent back to Vlatava for 'a proper punishment for his crimes against the nations of the world'. And so there's both a sizeable crowd of angry people, plenty of cameras, and a massive police presence as Vertigo walks towards the armored transport in an orange jumpsuit.

Serves him right. Vlatavan execution methods are far more unpleasant than you'd think a close U.S. ally would utilize, some of them nearly being medieval in their viciousness.

Inform me when they have done such things as made a mountain out of their enemies' severed genitalia and I will actually begin to see how 'vicious' those methods are.

"Hey, mister Alvear?"

I mute the TV, and turn towards Greta. "Yes?" She's not just calling me Legion anymore. I should probably consider that progress.

"You know a lot about how magic works, right?"

"More than most, yeah."

"Could you teach me?"

I blink. "Of course I could, but why?"

"You brought me back. And I...I can see the Red. That's where your power's from, right? It's kinda gross when I look too deep but I can see it in people. Souls, too. And...well, all those things you said at that school, about gifts and talents...I want to learn."

I can't help but smile.

A worthy choice of heir indeed, Champion.

"Then you can start learning. How well-read are you?"

"Pretty good! I like stories, I read them a lot, you know, before."

"Alright. I'll go dig out my old collection of training tomes, maybe call up a professional as well. Also, you still need to start attending school, soon. There's a lot of choices."

She frowns. "I'm not sure I want to go. They'll think I'm weird."

"Then be weird. I'm not going to send you to a place where bullies can run all over you. And normal is boring anyway."

"Okay, I guess. But what about magic? That's way better. I could do that instead."

"Not according to the United States, little one. But you'll make friends, I promise. Don't worry on that front."

"Mister, look!"

I whip my head back towards the TV, still playing with the sound off...and I smile, as the captions show news anchors and reporters panicking and the crowd fleeing the fallen form of Werner Vertigo and the spreading pool of blood beneath him, stemming from the neat entrance wound and probable massive exit wound in his skull.

Seems someone didn't want to wait for their vengeance. He's not getting back up from that...which probably means there's an assassin somewhere who did the job, not some idiot with a gun and his own anger.

Well, whoever you are, and whoever hired you, for whatever reason...you still did something decent today, mister assassin.

I let out a breath. "Well. That happened." I switch the TV off, and turn back to Greta. "So. Magic. Where do you want to start?"

"I want to know how to heal people."

"Then that's what I'll teach you first. Come on, I'll take you to the labs."


	17. Teutoberg Interlude 1

**8:03 AM EDT, Friday, November 12th, 2010**

 **Slaughter Swamp**

Contrary to the opinions of some, Lawrence Crock Junior was not a stupid man.

Violent? Yes. Harsh? Most definitely? Vindictive. Oh _yes._

But not stupid.

No, a stupid man would be complaining about the ridiculousness of what he was about to do, calling it ghost stories and hoo-ha.

He knew better. He'd seen what those ghost stories could do.

Which was why he didn't say a word as he trudged through the mud of Slaughter Swamp, coming to a very particular area that was heavily overgrown with mushrooms.

It was also why he didn't even think about the strangeness of his instructions as he reached into the small sack he'd carried all this way and withdrew a golden wedding ring. The thing, aged and dirty and crusted with mud and blood, went into the center of the mud lagoon in front of him with a small plop, sinking immediately.

" _Solomon Grundy,_

 _Born on a Monday,_

 _Christened on Tuesday,_

 _Married on Wednesday,_

 _Took ill on Thursday,_

 _Grew worse on Friday,_

 _Died on Saturday,_

 _Buried on Sunday,"_ he began to recite, as the mud rippled and a massive greyish hand appeared, followed shortly by the arm, then torso and head and all the other limbs, the whole immense ensemble clad in the rags of a black suit.

" _That was the end,_

 _Of Solomon Grundy,_ " the Grey's champion finished. The creature smiled, exposing greying teeth. Lawrence stared it in the eyes unflinchingly. He'd never show weakness, unless forced.

And he had plans to deal with the one who'd recently forced him to do that, oh yes.

For all that it mostly looked human, there were ways hinting at the thing's true nature, beyond the gray pallor of its skin. The fine web of fungal spores that grew on the skin, the tiny hints of them sprouting on knuckles and back, the dead look in its eyes.

"Why am I here? Why now?" it asked.

"Three debts owed, and this will pay all of them," he said, using the words his high-placed masters had given him. "It's simple. Face and kill Legion, and the other two tokens are yours once more." He nodded to the filthy wedding ring, still clutched in Grundy's hand.

"The Bloody Champion…" Grundy smiled again, then laughed, exposing a tongue and mouth choked with threads of mushroom. "No. Not even for those. Not ever. Good-bye."

Before Lawrence could speak, Grundy had sunk beneath the swamp's surface again. As a final insult, the wedding ring launched itself out of the swamp, spinning through the air to hit him in the dead center of his forehead and fall into the still-open bag.

Lawrence gritted his teeth, and kept his temper.

Fine, then. He'd find others.

 **12:03 PM GMT, Sunday, November 14th**

 **Castle Broen**

"Thought Mass would be louder," he said, slipping into the new in the almost entirely empty chapel. "And actually have a priest."

Siobhan MacDougall smiles from her own position. "The castle is quite empty, Sportsmaster. As you should well know, none are willing to tread here unless I am gone, and I have no intention of leaving now that I have paid the crone's price."

"Not even for Legion?"

The woman stiffened, and he pressed on.

"He kills and eats those he fights. And given the number of dead you have at your feet...sooner or later, he'll come for you. Better to take him out first."

She sighed. "And I suppose you are gathering as many as you can to accomplish that?" She turned in her pew, smiling thinly. "The Champion is young, but already his steps have sent echoes through every realm, even if he disregards them. His fate is promised to be a great one...and one built on the blood and bones of his enemies. Tell me, Master of Sports, why should I risk my immortality against such a creature? There is nothing you could offer me that I would accept, for even if we succeeded the price would be terrible indeed."

"How bad are we talking?"

She smiled, then, and turned away, ignoring him. A clear dismissal, one some of the Light's members specialized in.

Another failure, letting him leave again with his pulse pounding in his ears as he restrained his anger.

 **9:28 AM EDT**

 **New Jersey**

Wotan was dead- or near enough to matter, according to the little shit it'd be nine months until the Viking bastard resurrected- and the rest of the little shit's contacts were either hiding too deep to be found, like Thorn and Faust, or had flat-out refused him _again_ , in the case of Wizard.

He'd been doing this wrong.

Everyone on the little shit's list had their own powers. They owed debts or obligations or had other ties, but every single one of them had had fallback plans. None _needed_ him to keep their power.

None of them, except this poor bastard.

" _Do you have it?"_ a cracked and broken voice asked.

In answer, he pulled free the Ruby, a massive thing, far larger than any true gem should have been. It glimmered in the darkened room despite the lack of any real light source. The tiny sparkles, though, were enough to illuminated the ravaged and skeletal face of John Dee, or, as he'd been known years back, Doctor Destiny, as he reached forth with a hand more bone than flesh.

Sportsmaster pulled the Ruby back, and the man-thing hissed.

" _Give it back to me. Give it!"_

"Not until I get what I want."

" _Anything."_

"I want your word that you will not harm me or mine once I give it. And I want your promise that you'll fight as I've asked you too."

" _It's given, now give it_ to me."

"Swear on your mother's name and on the blood you've put in this damn rock."

" _Curse you!"_

"Do it, or no Ruby. Might even smash the damn thing. I can always find another magician, Dee."

The sound Dee made was as inhuman as he looked, with much wailing and gnashing of teeth. It almost reminded him of Artemis, before she'd been honed properly.

But he bent.

His kind always did.

 **8:52 PM EAT**

 **Somalia**

It had taken more work than he'd liked to sneak the helicopter across the border, but at the very least Ra's info had paid off.

The village had probably been host to one side or another in the hellish civil war the country was undergoing. Neither side could afford him, or the Shadows in general, so he hadn't paid much attention. Far more lucrative work in the Middle East.

Didn't much matter, either way. Bodies littered the ground, their blood staining the earth. Those were the lucky ones- there were others, crucified on makeshift poles. Some, he saw as he walked into the village, were still breathing, though none had the strength left to look up from their torment.

Behind his mask, he smiled. He was in the right place.

He found his man in the center of the village, sitting on a normal wooden stool, waiting. He wore ballistic plate, a good choice in armor, but several strips of carbon plating had been added over his shoulders, layered over one another. The helmet was another anomaly, an old Roman one rebuilt in kevlar and polymers. A riot shield was laid down at the man's feet, wings etched into the metal making up the center of the weapon, and a sword was at his hip.

But what was truly important was the old-fashioned spear in the man's hand. It looked ordinary- old, even, iron and wood and nothing of real interest...save, perhaps, the ever-present marks of ancient blood on the tip, some splashed further down where shaft met shank. Those marks would never fade, would never be covered up.

And that was why Lawrence approached without anger, without trying to push, only showing respect.

"You knew I was coming," he said.

The man nodded. "None of these poor fools utilize such transportation. And they would not send it alone. Why are you here?"

"Ra's al Ghul sent me."

"The maddened child? Does he think he can lure me into his employ? He would have much to prove, if that is the case."

"There is someone who might challenge you."

The man laughed, but there was no humor in his eyes. "None have done that. Not men, not gods, not even the One God these supposedly worshipped. But tell me, Master of Ceremonies, who is this one you think a challenge?"

"He calls himself Legion."

The man's smile vanished for a fraction of a second. And then returned, a sharp-edged grin. "Ah. The newest child of Diana, of course. Master of Ceremonies, I will _gladly_ kill him for you."

"Your contract here?"

"The men you see put on the cross are the ones who held that, and they refused to pay me."

"Then let's go."

 **10:04 PM EDT**

 **New York City**

He'd slept- barely, with the crazy Roman bastard and the crazy dreaming bastard in the same building together- shaved, shaken off the last vestiges of jet lag, and put on a suit.

There were perks to wearing a mask in his line of work. One of those was a degree of anonymity. Not quite enough to be a free and private citizen, especially now that he had been captured once already...but enough that by discarding the mask and dressing differently, he wouldn't be picked out of a crowd.

It was enough that he could also get a table in Bamonte's with little difficulty, thanks to the cueball's connections.

The eyepatched man slid into the seat opposite his without a sound. They nodded to each other, one professional to another, though both didn't like each other much. Lawrence, for his part, disliked the man's adherence to money and the contract over all else, while he had a suspicion Slade thought his methods...cruel. Was it cruel to train a hunting dog?

But it didn't matter. The man could be trusted to follow the money.

"Who is it?" Slade Wilson asked flatly.

"Legion. Alongside a team."

"Time?"

"Depends on how fast our magic works," Lawrence said. "More details once you take the contract."

Slade thought it over.

"I've fought him before, you know. Before he became what he is," the older man said. "He's gotten better. Less...soft." A thin smile. "I hope you brought your checkbook. It won't come cheap. And you're paying for dinner."

"Least I can do," Lawrence said, returning the smile.

He hoped, when things went down, Slade died first.

 **10:16 AM EDT, Monday, November 15th**

 **Agenda Inc. Headquarters**

The woman looked at him over steepled fingers. "I must confess, I find it difficult to imagine what exactly is of interest to a conglomerate like LexCorp. We're a simple bioengineering company, little more. Unless you have something to offer…?"

"Cut the crap. We both know what Agenda Inc.'s military contracts are working towards," he said flatly.

"And what, exactly, does that imply?"

"Project 'Replica' ring any bells? Or perhaps Origin? Perseus? Icarus? And, of course, Project Point Men," he said, giving her a smile with teeth in it.

She simply smiled back. "And what, then, do you want? If you were going to release this sort of information, you would've done so already."

"You have a dozen already prepared."

"Clearly, I need to upgrade my security. And they're prototypes. With six barely beginning memory implantation. Useless for anything beyond floating in their stasis tubes."

"Six will be enough."

She stared at him. Sighed.

"Why?"

"Legion."

A spark of interest returned to her eyes. "Then I have...conditions."

"And those are…?"

"LaTonya Charles. Head of Metahuman Solutions Incorporated. Whatever you plan to do with Agenda's resources, she dies first. That's the first condition."

"And the second?"

"If at all possible, take every scrap of knowledge you can from his mountain fortress."

Difficult, and it very much depended on how many of those bug-things he had. But with half a dozen metahumans and all the rest of the crazy bastards he'd pulled together...doable. He nodded.

"Then I think our business is concluded, Mr. Crock. Simply contact me with a location and I will deliver the prototypes."

He turned to go, hiding his...it couldn't be called joy. Simply the savoring of vengeance.

Sure, the Light had told him to assemble this team to _test_ Legion. But the boy had clearly demonstrated he had steel in him, and something that didn't put the threat of death on him was no real test.

At least, that was the justification he'd give to them once the bug manipulator was dead.

Lawrence Crock was not a stupid man.

But vengeful? Oh, he was most _certainly_ that.


	18. Teutoberg Chapter Four

**1:32 PM MDT, Tuesday, November 16th, 2010**

 **Challenger Mountain**

I check the last few symbols written into the circle, then nod to Greta. "Good work." She beams.

This is impressive, especially for one so young. Perhaps the nature of her resurrection?

"Seriously, though, you're learning amazingly fast. I couldn't be prouder."

The comm bead in my ear chimes.

" _Recognized: Red Arrow, B06, Artemis, B07, Match, B09, Zatanna, B10, Garfield Logan, A07,"_ it buzzes, relaying the Zeta Tube's announcements.

Huh. They're early. And with a lot of extra people. I only invited Roy- no, wait, he changed his name, he's not Roy. _Speedy_ is Roy, Red Arrow is _William._ Get it together, Grant.

"Well, ready to go say hello?" I ask, and she nods, suddenly looking uncertain. I smile, and kneel to look her in the eyes. "You'll do great. Garfield's a good kid. Just have a bucket of water handy for when he starts going into a Tinker trance and you'll get along fine."

"Does that really help?"

"Morah's done it a couple times so I'd assume so."

She laughs, and follows me out of the lab with a bit more of her bright demeanor intact.

As we walk, I borrow the eyes of a couple Drones.

Zatanna looks worried, but Artemis is talking to her quietly, too quietly for the Drones to hear properly. William's pacing, Connor's talking with Garfield, again, too quietly to hear.

They seem unmoored. Not particularly helped by you not approaching them, either.

Right, so, unknown situation, plenty of possible conversational landmines. Approach with caution.

The door to the elevator hisses open and we both walk out. I nod to William. "Y'all are early," I say casually. "Everyone, this is Greta, Greta, this is part of the merry band of crazy people I work with."

Artemis facepalms. Greta's watching her warily, and Red Arrow too.

"So, Garfield, labs and Greta's work are set up. The two of you know the way?"

Garfield nods, oddly quiet, and the two head off, leaving me with the crowd.

"Okay. What the hell happened?" I ask flatly. Connor flinches, as does Zatanna. Red Arrow just sighs.

"Short version? Hell of an argument, thanks to Luthor," Artemis says.

"What the fuck did that bald bastard do this time?"

"So, did you know that apparently LexCorp funded a pretty big chunk of the Logan Wildlife Sanctuary? And that, wonder of wonders, a week after Garfield talks with a STAR Labs doctor about some of his implant tech, Luthor ends up calling about 'checking up on the child of a dear and departed friend'?" Red Arrow says, every word dripping with sarcasm. "Tell me that doesn't sound suspicious."

"Okay, so, Lex Luthor's a sleazy jackass, what else is new and why did it start such a huge argument that y'all are in my home like it's a spandex convention?"

"We...aren't wearing spandex," Connor says flatly.

"Figure of speech, big guy."

"He offered to adopt Garfield."

Ooh boy. I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Again, that sounds like a pretty shitty offer, how the hell did that escalate into an argument? I'm pretty sure we can all agree that handing Evil Mr. Clean a bio-tinker is about as intelligent as an acid enema."

"It didn't. But everyone was pissed off enough that-"

"I quit the Team," Zatanna says flatly.

What.

"Okay. You guys need a place to stay?" I offer, ignoring the urge to question why the hell she did that.

Perhaps, unlike most of your peers, she possesses a sense of self-preservation.

"What?" Artemis asks. "No, just...well, we'll just wait for Robin and Wally to stop being brats, mostly."

Fucking teenagers.

"Alright. Still, Mountain's pretty much empty, any time you need a place, consider it open. Make yourselves at home, but Artemis, William, kinda need to talk to the two of you for a bit."

The two exchange glances, then nod, and follow me into the elevator.

++I'm not going to start spilling secrets, let me know if telling him about your family is okay,++ I broadcast to Artemis. She gives a tiny shake of her head.

++Red, you alright with her knowing the specifics of your power?++

He nods.

"Alright, so, I finally worked out exactly how your shard functions," I say, as the elevator opens up on the residential section. "Clever, really. Those wings aren't quite weapons, more...antennae."

William's eyes narrow slightly. "Keep talking."

"Basically, shards have one real goal, and that's to collect data. Mostly, they do that by handing a particularly conflict-prone person powers and seeing what happens, testing and improving their capabilities through that person without really interfering. Yours, on the other hand, seems to have taken an express route, since it's actually moving pieces of itself into the 'real' world. My personal theory? The more people you fight and the more unusual powers you're up against, the stronger the shard, and hence your powers, will grow."

He blinks. "So if I want to get better, literally all I have to do is keep doing hero work?"

"I told you. Conflict-prone."

"Heroes aren't-"

"Eh, you're all a crowd of Righteous Face Punchers. Unless y'all are investing in the community solving problems through conflict is kinda exactly what you do. This just means that you're going to get more rewards than sore knuckles for it."

They both give me flat looks, and I shrug.

"Hell, I'm heading to Gotham tomorrow and literally healing everyone who walks into Gotham Central. Perks of not having a secret identity, I can get away with that without all the legal tangles."

I see Artemis smile slightly, and I know she's gotten the implications. Excellent.

"Still worried about the lethality factor," William says, folding his arms. "It's not exactly...non-lethal."

I smile, and knock on the door to the meditation room I've set up. "And that, my friend, is why I asked both of you to come along. We're going to talk to your shards."

 **3:02 PM EDT, Wednesday, November 17th**

 **Gotham City Central Hospital**

I've checked with the hospital, and to my great surprise they're perfectly okay with this.

Well, actually, the manager had asked if I'd needed anything and I'd just said some space to work outside, and he didn't actually ask _what_ I was doing...eh, someone else's problem.

As I work on the circle encompassing the hospital, I have time to think.

 **6:14 PM MDT, Tuesday**

 **Challenger Mountain**

"Luthor? Really?" Morah asks as I serve dinner. Roasted chicken and vegetables, nothing fancy but it does the trick. "Well, there's a simple solution to that."

"If you're suggesting I adopt him…" I say, before giving Greta a look. "Sorry, but no. One kid's enough, for now."

"I wasn't about to. _I_ would adopt him."

Huh.

"You think you could pull it off?"

"With you paying for the lawyers, I believe so. Garfield has a keen mind and is a joy to work with, and what I could offer would undoubtedly be better than his current state _or_ being the pet scientist of a madman," Morah says calmly.

"Fair enough. I'll make some calls."

 **3:12 PM EDT, Wednesday**

 **Gotham City Central**

"...Sir? Can you hear me?"

I blink, train of thought returning to the here and now, before turning to face the police officer. "Sorry. Head in the clouds. Yeah, what is it?"

"Uh...what exactly are you doing, sir?"

I look back at the mostly-completed circle, done in blood. My blood, to be precise, since I'm pretty sure I won't ever run out.

"Making a magic circle," I answer. "And yes, I'm aware of how that sounds, but I checked with the hospital, they're...mostly, alright with it. I don't think they were expecting this."

The cop, who looks like he's not nearly paid well enough to deal with this sort of thing, stares at the circle. "Okay, I'll bite. Why a giant blood circle, sir?"

He is utterly terrified of you. Try to put him at ease.

"First off, you call a League member 'sir' if you feel like it. Or if they aren't Wonder Woman, she might take offense if you call her that. Anyway, short version, circles work if you're trying to run a large effect, keep it contained, or just generally do something that requires finesse...well, within a given circle, a mage can exert a lot more power."

Yes, telling him you have even more control over a group of helpless civilians is certainly reassuring.

"Okay. Why didn't you just use...I don't know, wouldn't chalk work?"

"For most things, sure, chalk is _okay_ , and if you know all your symbology it's the best thing for summonings and such. But it's often better to use a material you know well. And for me, that's blood or bone."

"And what, exactly, are you going to do?"

"Everyone in that hospital's gonna walk out healed soon as I engage this spell. Even the terminal cases. Now, mind not talking for a bit? Gonna need to concentrate."

His expression turns stubborn for a moment, and I pause. Right. Some people might not trust me. "If you're worried I'm gonna do something crazy, call...Cathleen Bennet, her number's…"

"No, no, it's fine. Just going to need to call it in," he says hastily.

Wait until he has finished. We do not want this to go the wrong way.

"Sure. Do that, let me know what happens."

He pulls a radio from his belt and begins speaking some mishmash of jargon into it, which I ignore, instead testing the limits of the spell circle as unobtrusively as possible. Everything is in order, it merely requires that I set it in motion…

"Hey, you drifting off again? Hey!"

Dammit, again? I give the cop a look. "Yeah?"

"Boss gave the okay. Do your thing."

In. Out. Breathe.

And push.

Three hundred living humans inside, some strong, most weakened. The Red's Benediction washes over them all, healthy or not. Genetic damage is cured, tumors excised, changes reversed. Nerves pull themselves together and erase damage, phagocytes claim the harshest reoccurring infections as they find themselves invigorated. Viruses that infest lymph and T-cells are _purged_ , the infections taking advantage of weakness wiped out. Duplicated and missing chromosomes are removed and reintroduced, tears in muscle and brittle bone are made whole. Brain structures alter and improve themselves, shoving aside years of decay. Atrophied tissues are rebuilt, donated organs are altered to work seamlessly with the greater whole, years of chemical damage to the bodies reversed, addictions cured and lives restored. I linger for half a moment over a particular case, excising shrapnel that had torn through muscles and nerves, restoring her to the peak of health, before returning to the grand work.

Everything is made whole, everyone at the peak of their health, brains spiking with endorphins and chemical shock as it's made clear, and I withdraw.

I smile at the cop. "There. Done."

 **1:58 PM MDT, Thursday, November 18th**

 **Challenger Mountain**

I tap my foot impatiently as I wait for the screens to boot up. Running a video conference call isn't exactly difficult, but when it's for something this important...and with Morah...no. Calm. I smooth down the fabric of my suit.

In. Out. Centered. Alright.

These are military men. Offer your services and their sole concern will be the cost. Too little, and they will think you waiting to betray them. Too much and they will hem and haw, counting copper. This is true whether dealing with mercenary bands or nations lending their 'aid'.

The screens flicker to life, three of them, revealing the faces of Generals Samuel Lane, Jack Latham, and Gabriel Wells. Lane's the one with the clout here, head of the DEO and all. Latham's in because of the Army's experiments with Project Shield. And Wells...probably to keep an eye on the proceedings, or simply because he's still concerned over defending Earth and doesn't trust the League to do it _right._

Fair enough. I don't either.

"Gentlemen, I'll skip right to the point, shall I?"

"Sounds like a plan, Legion," Lane says. "Offering up a powered armor unit for mass production, right?"

I smile. "Exactly."

"I thought your field was biological research," Latham says, leaning forward in his chair.

"It is, but that doesn't mean my subordinates have to specialize in the same thing," I say smoothly. "So, let's see. The Alae Mark Three powered armor is a unit meant to be piloted after perhaps a month's intensive training. The controls are highly intuitive and an onboard virtual intelligence serves as the primary mediator between wearer and armor, ensuring some of the more...gory results of misusing powered armor don't happen. You'll note that the currently produced powered armor units in Russia and the former Soviet Union states require _years_ to produce even a minimally competent pilot, to say nothing of one who actually knows what they're doing. The armored plating and composites composing it are rated against 40mm autocannon fire with minimal damage to armor and pilot, and the suit itself can be outfitted with a variety of basic weaponry, depending on mission status and requirements. Primary armament is up to you, but given the fact it actually has functional hands and gauntlets I'd recommend something specialized, heavy machine guns or grenade launchers if you don't want to spend the money on gauss weaponry." I motion to the boards and pictures set up behind me.

"The suit itself uses a combination of mechanical and pseudo-organic structures to greatly increase the strength of the wearer. Someone wearing it can bench press ten tons. Speed is...moderate. It's not capable of flight, but it can cover ground at the same rate as an Abrams tank with the governor on. Power supply is provided by patented microfusion cells- not power plants, cells- that provide sufficient power for 48 hours of sustained combat."

I pause for a moment.

"Overall, while it won't go up against a Rocket Red formation or take down fighter jets, the suit has three advantages. First: maintenance requirements. Each Rocket Red suit has comparatively large downtimes to combat times, sometimes reaching a fifty-to-one ratio for the high-end suits employed by Russia proper, and requires a large array of specialized equipment and personnel, and if the suit is damaged it's often impossible to repair it outside of returning it to the manufacturing facility. The Alae, on the other hand, is largely based around conventional technology, and while maintenance is still an extensive requirement it should not reach higher than a two-to-one ratio except in the most dire conditions. Second, as already noted, is the need for trained pilots. With onboard VI any given soldier of average intelligence can master the suit quickly, while a Rocket Red pilot requires a vast degree of specialized training, as well as induction into the Russian Intelligence Services, likely due to the _origins_ of the technology used in the suits. Third, is cost. Even the lower-end Rocket Red suits tally up to...roughly eighty million US dollars, judging from the last ruble-dollar exchange rates. The Alae suit costs one point eight million."

"You're advising us to adopt a cheap suit instead of one better than what the Russians have, in spite of our overall equipment doctrine being the exact opposite?" Lane says, with an arched eyebrow.

"Yes, actually. Because if you're willing to pay the kind of price you need, you could outfit a massive percentage of your personnel with the basic Alae suit and crush any infantry- or armored- force you encounter."

"'Basic' suit?" Wells queries.

I grin. "Exactly, sirs. If the Alae isn't something you're interested in...well, my people can offer parity with the Rocket Reds armor and armaments with the Cataphract, a near-perfect stealth system with the Cossack, or an infantry support system with the Hippeis. These, however, are still in the prototype stages. The Alae was the one judged most suitable for mass production."

It was also the one that Morah was most willing to let the Army get their hands on.

We have them. As I said, variety and options make for an interested buyer.

Lane leans forwards in his chair. "We're listening."


	19. Teutoberg Interlude 2

**2:11 PM CDT, Friday, November 19th, 2010**

 **Belle Reve Penitentiary**

 **Thomas Terrence**

It was raining again, but Tommy didn't let that bother him none. Wasn't as if most could go outside anyway, even if the sound of rain and thunder was obvious enough even through all the concrete and other stuff the prison was made of.

He had other shit to focus on. Like these damn math problems.

"C'mon, man, why're you being such a damn pain in the ass?" Icicle Junior whines. "Ever since that bug guy took out the clown you've been a real stick in the mud. What gives?"

Tommy sighed, trying to resist the urge to punch the idiot in the face. With the damn collar on he couldn't hit him near as hard as he wanted to, anyhow. "Just 'cause you were dumb 'nuff to jump into here 'cause your daddy said so, don't mean the rest of us want to make this a vacation home. Gonna have a hard enough time findin' a job anyhow, with my record, without a damn degree might as well turn ta begging instead."

"Or, you know, you could just knock over another bank. Heck, man, with your strength you could _definitely_ pull it off!"

Idiot. "Yeah, I do that and who the hell knows what's waitin' for me? Oh, right, I do know- the guy who we both saw turn some of the scariest fuckers on the planet into _food._ " He shuddered. "So, fuck you, I'm goin' to try for a GED while I'm in here, if it keeps me from endin' up like them."

"Buddy, long dark and bloody has better things to worry about than you, I bet."

"Nah. See, he talked to me, while I was stuck in a cell. And he was _pissed._ I ain't takin' the chance he's gonna remember me if I get caught, you hear?"

"Fine. Drama queen."

"Better that than dead. You heard what Riddler's been sayin'?"

"Yeah, but seriously? You're listening to the _Riddler?_ The _one_ guy who Batman thought not good enough for Arkham?"

"He's also the one guy who got out, 'cept for those two Shadows," Tommy said. "He knows somethin', I'd bet."

" _These molecules on their return_

 _You might not recognize_

 _They've undergone a secret turn_

 _They've been transmogrified."_

The hell?

"Still. The _Ri-_ "

"Shut the fuck up. You hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Quiet." He strained his senses. Sure, his hearin' wasn't as good as some of the fancy alien fuckers like Big Blue and his Tommy-sized lookalike, but it was way better than Icicle's every could be.

Creepy as hell, but it was definitely singing.

" _The ether sipped them from a story_

 _You- yourself- supplied_

 _From toil-sweat and tempest-tears_

 _Pooled together through the years_

 _From each ripple and each tilt_

 _On each outboard wave of guilt_

 _By every deep-dive ponderance_

 _Of every choice and every chance_

 _By each oblique reflection formed_

 _Then looked upon askance…"_

It was getting closer, rising up above the sound of the rain and the occasional crash of thunder, like it was whispering in his ears.

Farther down in the cell block, a door ground open. He was at the bars of his cell before he even knew he was moving. The figure of one of the Deputy Wardens...Jones? Never bothered to learn the feller's name...stepped into the light.

"All you maggots, listen the fuck up!" he shouted. "We've got someone coming in soon, don't start shit, got it?"

And still the damn singing kept going.

" _Memory is waterborne…._

 _Like recordings made in wax_

 _But more protean an act_

 _Mutable after the fact_

 _Those laden droplets then_

 _Ascended to the skies_

 _Drop back down, down the line_

 _The whole thing in reprise_

 _However much in disguise,_

 _All of it's reprise…"_

The shadows behind Jones seemed to sprout teeth, as a shape Tommy knew from nightmares and tons of broadcasts stepped out of them, the source of the song.

It should have been funny. Someone of Legion's reputation, singing? Something hilarious.

But it wasn't. It set his pulse pounding as Legion strode forward, strands of red-colored light trailing after him...and the limp shape of Killer Frost following him, covered from head to toe in those same strands. Only her eyes remained free, and while he couldn't be sure, he thought they were jumping around like a trapped rabbit's.

The staff in the man's hand clacked against the ground in time with the song, the rain seeming to accompany the creepy noise.

" _Like how a silky mist recalls the kiss_

 _That once had graced your brow_

 _And remembering this leaves you remiss_

 _To the one who holds you now_

 _Or how the slant-wise rain drives a train_

 _Of thoughts of things long-lost_

 _But there's a liquid memory to calculating costs_

 _It dutifully derails the train,_

 _and in refrain evermore is lost."_

He kept walking, and Tommy watched the other cells. He couldn't be the only one...

No. Riddler, cowering away in his cell. Icicle Sr., watching the cameras like he was begging them for it to stop. Freeze, frozen as Legion's eyes swept over the cell block…

Even as silly as it should have been, everybody was still terrified.

Riddler's ideas couldn't be true...they wouldn't dare use Legion to...take care of the stronger inmates...wouldn't they?

Legion paused, and a smile lit up under the shadows covering his face as he leaned towards the bars of Captain Cold's cell, the villain flinching back and staying as hidden as he could even as the man moved on.

" _Or how a deluge rent the earth beneath you_

 _And down some blind alley sent_

 _You fleeing from the altercation_

 _For relief, but all it truly meant_

 _Was a cold redesignation_

 _A long monsoon spent indigent:_

 _So you, darting eve to dorm_

 _Till every refuge sopping_

 _Went back into that conjured storm_

 _And there's no sign it's stopping…"_

He paused again, looking at the reinforced cell that held the two strongest metas...and grinning a sharp-edged grin as the song wormed its way into Tommy's ears.

" _These molecules on their return,_

 _I_ surely _recognize_

 _It's a sort of circle-stream, a water-clock, a time-machine_

 _Lean counter-current, fight the tide_

 _It's a straight downriver whirlpool ride_

 _And whatever form that memory takes,_

 _We drift and swim in our own wake."_

Thunder rattled the entire prison, a lightning bolt must have hit real close, but Tommy's attention was on Legion as he sunk his hands into the rock and metal of the cell door...and tore it free in a lengthy shriek. Mammoth rocketed out like the furry elephant he was named after, but Legion stepped aside like a bullfighter, spreading arms out and still. Fucking. _Singing._ Sure, his mouth wasn't moving, fixed in that too-sharp grin, but Tommy knew the man's voice all the same.

" _Oh storm!_

 _We are the self-same water-wheel_

 _What turmoil becomes, trouble begets-"_

Blockbuster threw himself at Legion as Mammoth turned and did the same, and all it did was getting them knocked out at the same time as Legion's staff blurred into motion.

" _The echoed pitch, the answered keel_

 _So take my behest, at your behest_

 _And charge up my electric ghost!"_

He hefted the two unconscious metas, each larger than him, in one hand each, red threads already creeping around their bodies.

" _I'll pay_ my _returns with interest!"_

On that note, he stalked back to the cell block door, pulling his captives after him. The door slammed shut.

There was, for a few seconds, absolute silence in Belle Reve.

"So, can I borrow some of your textbooks?" Icicle Jr. asked timidly.

 **2:23 PM CDT**

 **Belle Reve Penitentiary**

 **Caitlyn 'Crystal' Frost**

She knew what this room was supposed to be used for.

Not everyone got to wait out their stay in Belle Reve in peace. The ones who caused too much trouble, and who _weren't_ empowered in a way that made them hard to kill...they ended up here, or in a room nearby, depending on if their powers protected them from one or the other. It took years, sometimes, for someone to end up here...but end up here they did.

Death row proceedings took a lot of time, after all.

This one looked like the one they would've done the electric chair in...though there wasn't the cap or the wires or anything else. Just a normal chair and an intricate circle surrounding it...and in the shadows, two others, surrounded by different kinds of circles. The tinted glass, where she knew people were watching, that was familiar, though. Like something out of a movie.

The threads that kept her restrained pulled her into the center chair, finally letting go of her, only for the chair's restraints to lock into place. Blockbuster and Mammoth got the same treatment, though theirs were a lot heavier.

And Legion just smiled up at the glass, eyes and hands burning with that same evil light.

"Caitlyn Frost, Marcus Desmond, and Baran Flinders," a voice- not Strange, someone else- said over the intercom in the chamber's ceiling. "Due to your criminal records, and numerous offenses, it has been decided that you shall be stripped of your extraordinary abilities, to prevent each of you from continuing to act as a menace to society upon completion of your sentences. This will be carried out by an official of the penitentiary."

They weren't going to let her be eaten. Oh, thank God.

"Mister Alvear, you may proceed."

Okay, maybe not.

Still, they couldn't take her abilities away...right? This damn collar could only shock her if she used them, there wasn't any way some fancy circles on the ground could do that...right?

Legion turned the smile on her. "Is this being recorded?" he asked.

"Yes," the voice on the intercom said flatly.

"Good. Then, for the record- the procedures I'm undertaking are very different. Each of the circles can be operated by any given human, though in such cases they will only be able to be operated once every half hour. The circle on the left, containing Mr. Desmond, undoes the effects of Blockbuster super-serum. The circle on the right, containing Mr. Flinders, has a similar effect with regards to the cocktail know as 'Kobra Venom'. The _center_ circle, on the other hand, de-activates the meta-gene."

They were going to do it. To take away what made them special, better than anyone else. No. They were- oh God...

"Understood," the voice said. "Proceed."

Red light flared, and Caitlyn screamed.


	20. Teutoberg Chapter Five

**4:42 PM MDT, Saturday, November 20th**

 **Challenger Mountain**

Well, I've learned one thing.

Most of the major biotech companies in this universe are run by crazy people or morons. Or both, considering the fact that Avery Sunderland is one of them. I'm honestly surprised he didn't immediately start shouting about killing Swamp Thing during the conference call.

They are idiots, but they are idiots we will have to work with.

I sigh, and faceplant into the couch.

++Problems?++ First asks as he maneuvers his bulk into the room.

"You're only a couple months old, First, and yet you're smarter than these idiots," I grumble. "I offer them free healing and organ donation, and they mumble about _testing concerns_ and _government approved._ "

++There are good reasons for those, though.++

I mock-glare at him. "Do you have to interrupt my annoyance with logic?"

++Yes, maker. You tasked me with keeping you from, and I quote, 'going full cackling supervillain' a few weeks ago.++

"Okay, fine, you overgrown zergling, I'll stop complaining."

I would prefer you do that as well, in addition to actually _doing something_ if you have such a problem with their ineptitude.

++Excellent. Now get up, you have stuff to do.++

"Nag nag nag…" I grumble. "You're near as bad as Morah."

++Hardly. He reserves most of his mother-henning for his androids.++

"Urgh." I push myself up. "Where's Greta?"

++Currently raiding your shelves for your books on healing magic. A Hunter is keeping an eye on her. She named it Spikey.++

"Heh. Make sure she doesn't do anything until I get back. I've got to go talk to the man dressed like a bat."

++Yes, maker.++

I stand, and head for the Zeta tube.

" _Recognized: Legion, A09."_

 **6:48 PM EDT**

 **The Batcave**

I get two steps before a glowing forcefield snaps into existence around me, joined by a glowing circle of sigils and accompanied by a whirring noise as something that looks uncomfortably like a railgun deploys from the ceiling.

This man employs competent security. You have chosen well.

I wait, tapping my foot, until a speaker buzzes to life. " _Identity confirmed. Access approved. Monitor programs engaged."_

The forcefield and the sigils fade away, then the railgun folds itself away.

Okay. Place is definitely empty...and judging by how I can't reach out to any insects beyond a few hiding in various cracks, definitely warded heavily...so what do I do? Just drop it on the couch?

Well, monitor programs is probably Bat-puter-speak for 'I'm watching you' so I could theoretically do that…

"Can I help you, sir?"

Gah!

I spin to face Alfred, who is entirely unperturbed.

"God _damn_ it, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I wouldn't dare do so, sir. Now, your business here?"

This man interests me. But there's something strange in the air in this city...follow it.

Right. Important. I pull out a manila folder nearly as thick as my wrist. "Here. I've been working on some divination, basically abusing some metaphysical properties in insect reactions...one sec."

The wards are strong, enough to prevent my influence, but not enough to keep me from the source of my power. I follow threads of the Red to a pulsing knot of power deep in the earth, something twisted out of shape and corrupted.

I step on the walkway in the sewer, ignoring the smell in favor of the massive reptilian figure standing hunched over in the center of the...river. Killer Croc growls at me, and I smile. "Hello, beastie."

He lunges, and I punch him in the jaw.

The strength's something new, something I haven't consciously asked for, but asked for or not my uppercut staggers the man whose very nature has been so deeply entwined in the Red there's little of his humanity left. The head of my staff slams into his temple a second later, and the immense reptile-man drops. I grab him, and yank us both fully into the Red.

 **The Red**

Shepherd blinks. "Hullo, young 'un, what's-"

I drop Killer Croc's unconscious form in front of him. "Fix this shit."

"Now say what-"

Gone again.

 **The Batcave**

"Alright. Where was I?"

Alfred doesn't even raise an eyebrow. "I believe you were explaining your methodology, sir."

"Right. So. Insect reactions to danger...sorting through the metaphor and drek, here's what could be coming down the pipeline and pose a threat to the world."

A lie, but a believable one. Really, it's every scrap of meta-knowledge I could think of, the nature of Apokolips, the Anti-Monitor, the various sorts of Lantern Corps, Nekron and Neron and all the other ominously-named assholes that could wander in. Everything.

He takes the file. "I see. Why the sudden interest in telling the future, sir? Your approach is usually more...direct."

I sigh. "I've got good word that I...might not be around much longer. I'm being prepared. That's what your boss's job is, ain't it? So once I'm gone, I'll have put enough pieces in place that things can keep on going."

Ways to depower powered criminals. Weapons to put Earth on a more equal footing with foreign invaders. Medical techniques and magic to shatter those who could never prepare for something they'd dismiss as superstition. All to keep the planet spinning on, though I can't tell what the long-term consequences will truly be. No way to stick the genie back in the bottle now anyway.

Judging from Alfred...wait, he's got a domino mask on. I guess he'd be Butlerman or something then? Fuck it, judging from _Butlerman's_ expression I said that last bit out loud.

"If I may venture an opinion, sir?"

"It's a free country, Butler-dude."

"Whatever destiny says your fate might be, it does not mean you should let that foretelling dictate your actions. Choose your own fate."

"Somehow, I doubt that's an option for me. Everything's written down in Destiny's book," I say quietly.

"What is that phrase you so often use? Ah, yes. _Bullshit._ There is nothing permanent in this world, and even destiny can change, young man."

The old man knows little of what he speaks. Still, perhaps there is wisdom…

I sigh. "If you say so."

"I do. Now, if I may ask, what made you bring this here, instead of, say, the Hall of Justice? Surely this would be a matter for the entire League."

"If I was _certain_ everything in those files was going to show up, I would. But I'm not. So I'm leaving it in the hands of someone who's much better than me at planning countermeasures."

"That area is one in which the Batman has great expertise, yes. Is this everything?"

"It's what I could find. Might want to have Zatara or Fate look it over, see what they can corroborate."

"I will take that under advisement, sir."

I take the tone of dismissal for what it is, and take the Zeta tube back home.

Now. Time to see if Greta's ready for the interesting biomancy bits.

But there's something else that needs to be done, first.

 **11:58 PM CAT**

 **Uganda**

It's strange, really. Despite the potential vastness of my range, the sheer usefulness I could get out of having the entire _world's_ insect population as my eyes and ears...I haven't used it. Not since Bialya, when I removed every trace of Queen Bee's pheromones. Since that day, I've kept my focus small, little more than a hundred square miles at the largest.

Not now.

Now, with an illusion spell concealing me, I sit crosslegged at the peak of Mount Stanley, and feel out across the countless minute lives that are mine to command. Almost all, I leave be. Almost.

This? This is power, the truest kind there is.

It's perhaps one in a million, one in a billion, that I take control of. But it's more than enough, for what I need to do here.

I close my eyes. Breathe out.

A self-proclaimed witch doctor begins screaming before spasming wildly, his own nervous system turning against him.

A warlord drops mid-speech as his heart fails, the child soldiers surrounding him backing away quickly.

A corrupt chief of police drives a knife into his own heart, his subordinates watching in terror, unable to move.

A dictator raises a trembling hand to his temple before he pitches over a palace balcony and down to the flagstones a dozen stories below.

Over and over again, these scenes repeat themselves. Every group of religious extremists, brutal nationalists, slavers, drug lords, arms dealers and local warlords and torturers and madmen...their leaders die. All of them through causes that might be considered 'natural'.

It is truly amazing what one can convince a body to do when you channel the Red through it.

I'm not a fool, though.

Leaders can die, but the foot soldiers would continue on no matter what. The armories and wealth and everything else are still there, and there's simply too much blood shed on every side to think it would stop now. If anything, removing the leaders ensure that there will only be more chaos, as subordinates take their own chunks of the dead men's kingdoms.

But that's where the rest come in.

Channeling aspects of the Red centered around destruction- acid sprays, gnawing mandibles, and every other tool I could think of- insects park themselves on arms caches and act as conduits of power.

Assault rifles collapse into rusty metal. Shells and rockets turn into duds as their explosive contents decay. Everything used by the countless warring groups, large and small...gone. I leave caches belonging to legitimate and relatively humane groups intact, letting them stay armed.

If I get the chance, I'll keep an eye on them to make sure they don't turn out as badly as their oppressors. If not...I've written down a red herring in Alfred's files. Signs pointing to an ancient African deity rising from slumber and being mightily pissed at the state their continent is in. Something to keep the League interested even if nobody else is. All bullshit, but believable bullshit, and now…

I pull out a disk of fire-baked clay from under my coat, and throw it down the mountainside. Enough raw magic in it to convince someone that it once held power, and Morah had been willing to loan me some time on an experimental chronoton engine that gave it the 'proper' age. The symbology on it, when pieced together, will probably lead whoever investigates to assume that with it broken the god's power is dissolved as well.

All these theatrics and preparation...why not simply do as you did against the false Queen?

All of it, necessary, if it keeps people from assuming _I_ did it. People will assume it a miracle or a god's wrath, instead of the actions of a lone hero...and the pillars of society stick together for a little bit longer.

My work's done. Time to go home.

 **8:03 PM MDT**

 **Challenger Mountain**

"Mr. Alvear?"

I put the copy of Churchill's World War Two memoirs down. Remarkable stuff. Close, very close, to what I'd read back home, and the man's opinion on Wonder Woman was 'entertaining'...but not important right now.

"Yeah, Greta?"

She seems worried, but she takes a breath, gathering herself. "Are you my dad, now?"

Huh.

Say something.

"Genetically? No, but legally and mystically, yes," I say.

I'm not sure what the lawyers I hired said to Child Services, but the woman they sent to look the place over definitely seemed afraid. Or maybe that was because she had a Hunter as a guard-slash-escort the entire time she was in the mountain.

"Oh. Then…" She fidgets, and I lean forward.

"Yes?"

"Can I...have a hug?"

Oh. Does she really…

"Of course, little one. Come here."

She climbs onto the couch, and I wrap my arms around her. She clings onto my coat, and...oh shit. Crying kid, what the hell do I do?

I settle for holding her and murmuring things I hope are reassuring. It seems to work, after a while, and I look her in the eyes. "Better?" I ask.

Aaaand that just starts her off again. Great job, Grant.

"Hey, it's okay, you're alright," I say soothingly as she runs out of steam again. "You're safe, it's okay."

She raises red-rimmed eyes to look at me, looking half her twelve years of age. "You promise?"

"I promise. What is it, little one?"

"Just...happy, I don't know, why-"

"Shh...it's okay. It's okay."

Eventually, she quiets, and soon after that she falls asleep, still curled up close. I shift slightly and she makes a sleepy grumbling sound, latching on tighter.

Okay.

Guess I deserve a rest, myself…

 **6:12 AM MDT, Sunday, November 21st**

" _-I bask in the glow of the rising war, lay waste to the ground of an enemy shore,  
wade through the blood spilled on the floor, and if another one stands-"_

I groan, and accept the call. "Yeah?"

"Legion? Get your ass down to Rifle, stat," LaTonya Charles says. "There's something...I'm not even sure what I'm looking at. But it's definitely in your field."

"Dangerous?" I ask, moving very carefully as I try to extricate myself from under Greta.

"Don't think so. But...weird."

"Where in Rifle?"

"You know the mini storage place? Off Airport Road?"

"Yeah. In one of the units?"

"Yeah. Get here fast, bug man."

"On it."

Back to work, I guess.


	21. Teutoberg Chapter Six

**6:16 AM MDT, Sunday, November 21st, 2010**

 **Rifle, Colorado**

It's absolutely pouring as I step out of the Red and into reality, rain dripping off the brim of my hat almost instantly. It's keeping almost all the bugs in the area down, too. Annoying, but not exactly a problem.

Place looks deserted. Probably _is_ , Rifle isn't exactly a boom town. Makes it a good place to stash something...have to wonder what it was that's freaking LaTonya out. Maybe one of her temps got caught up in something?

It takes very little effort to force the lock open and start down the rows of storage units, the roar of the rain and the occasional boom of thunder a background accompaniment to my footsteps.

"LaTonya?"

"Over here!"

Distant, or at least it seems that way with the rest of the noise, but it gives me a direction.

As I trudge over and through the rapidly forming puddles, I turn on my commbead. "Morah?"

" _He's not here now,"_ Inferno replies. " _What's the problem?"_

"Down in Rifle, Ms. Charles called me in. No word on what exactly she's dealing with but it's in my field, apparently."

" _Doesn't sound good. You want drone coverage?"_

"If you please."

" _Sure thing, dear. I'll get them launched and wake up Father. Oh, you want me to put the Swarm on standby?"_

"Just in case."

" _Then I'll wake up First and the featherclaws, too. Happy hunting."_

"Let's hope that's not what we need to do," I mutter as I cut the connection.

Concrete flooring is _not_ helping here- the water's already ankle-deep in places, because clearly drainage was not a concern to whoever built this place. Makes it a pain in the ass to move bugs around- the flyers can't stand the rain and the crawlers will drown. I round the corner, and spy one of the storage units with the door rolled up. "Hey, this-"

I stop, and sniff the air. The rain might damp a lot of it out, but...well, the scent of blood is hard to mask.

Yeah, this is tripping every horror-movie flag in my brain. Does that make me the random cop who investigates and gets killed by the monster?

Stop your useless prattling and investigate. If it is a trap, we will fight through it.

Alright. Start looking. Walking right into the damn thing is just stupid, but I've got a lot more than that.

Most of the storage units are sealed up tight, and the flooding is still a problem, but farther afield there's more than enough insects huddled away from the rain to suit, and they begin to spread out as stealthily as possible, searching. I place a hand on the side of the nearest storage unit, and a wave of spiders and roaches marches out from the soaked sleeve of my coat, clinging to the side of the unit and carefully moving onto the next. And the next, and the next, until they reach the open unit and let me see what's within.

A flash of lightning provides illumination before I think to call up a Firefly's Glow, but it's enough for me to see what's within.

LaTonya, strapped to a chair, gagged and blindfolded. Two bodies on the ground in front of her. Blood spatter.

Trap? Obviously, but I'm already moving. The insects intensify their search, more and more joining in, covering the entire town.

Risk's green outfit is recognizable the moment the light burning at the head of my staff draws closer. I turn him over anyway, close his eyes. Ignore the three close-packed bullet holes over his heart.

In. Out. Breathe.

This _will_ be avenged.

This will be avenged.

The other is harder to identify, but once rolled over it becomes clear it's Victor. A single stab wound, right through the chest, surrounded by raised, blackened veins. How that killed him, unknown. Likely magical or high-tech in nature.

LaTonya's panicking, but despite being less than a foot from me the desperate struggling against her bonds seems distant. Insects are still searching. Who did this?

There's a portable speaker on the ground. A fake. Either a recording or a mimic of her voice. I crush it underfoot as I move to the chair, removing LaTonya's blindfold and gag quickly. She works her jaw for a moment, but her eyes are darting as if she expects attack at any moment.

"Oh thank God. Get-"

That's when the explosives go off.

The world shrinks to practically nothing as I barely put a Shell of the Ironclad around us both in time, a massive swath of insects wiped away letting me trace the extent of the damage.

A chunk of the town...it's _gone._ How many people did that just kill?

Too much smoke and ash in the air to see beyond the shield. Too few bugs alive to see beyond it, but outside...not many, the rain's keeping a lot inside, but enough to get some rudimentary vision…

Outside looking in. I get a glimpse of the shield, red light shining through the haze in the air, but nothing of whoever just set off those bombs. Outside looking out, nothing again. Where the hell _are_ they?

Space _twists_ , and ash and bugs vanish from my control as a group of humanoids- vision's still too fuzzy to tell anything else- appears from the air.

I let loose a few dozen termites and beetles to deal with LaTonya's bonds, form a second shield around her, and dismiss the first, stepping towards them as the dust is slowly driven down by the pouring rain. A massive chunk of the town is now rubble, a chaotic mess of mud and broken ground.

They assail you from ambush. Perhaps they think their plan successful. Use that surprise to your advantage.

Hundreds dead. Just to kill me. Well, they're going to-

" **N̢ò m͟o҉r͘e ̡p͘et҉s ̢for͜ ͜y͏ou."**

My vision...flickers...and I fall to my knees, gasping for breath. What…

" _Legion? Legion! There was an explosion. Please respond, please-"_

Inferno's voice breaks into static before fading away entirely.

They're coming closer. I can hear footsteps. Vision's clouded, can't feel the insects, but I make out body armor in the closest one, a cape on another, armored grey skin on a third. Small details. How many? Eight? Ten?

"Well, that was easy," a familiar voice says. "Guess you got cocky, huh, kid?"

Deathstroke.

A nervous laugh from outside my narrowing field of vision. It's rasping and high-pitched. Don't know who it belongs to. "Everyone thinks themselves so so strong, until you take away their source," whoever-it-is prattles. "See? He weakens without it. Soon he'll be dead, yes, dead!" That's it. The bastards have cut me off from the Red.

No.

No. I can't feel the Red, but…I reach down anyway. _I will not die here. Not like this._

And I find the strength to stand after all, as inside me trapped souls begin to burn, and I feel fire rush through my veins. I face the enemy.

Deathstroke, wearing crude powered armor and carrying a massive rifle comfortably. Doctor Destiny, skull-masked, Dream's Ruby in his hands. Some short bastard with a Roman theme, grinning sadistically. And what I'm pretty sure are the Point Men, out, well, on point. Grey Lady, batlike, Blockade with his armored skin and strength, Short Cut the rapid teleporter, Serpenteen the, well, lizard-man. Only Blank Slate and Groundswell are missing.

Insects.

"Fitting. All of you, against _all of me,"_ I say with a smile.

For something like this? Masks are worthless.

 _When hope is gone,_

 _Undo this lock_

 _And send us forth_

 _On a moonlit walk._

I will not be fodder, either for your strength or for your fight. Not unless your need is dire.

We fall away into ourselves, splitting and dividing like amoebal cells, insects covering broken ground and hiding from the pouring rain, countless numbers of them rising in a cloud that ignores the battering droplets. It coalesces and clears.

Three Abrams tanks, crewed and loaded.

Thirty-eight soldiers, armed to the teeth.

A telepathic gorilla, a Burning Martian bred for war, a master of radiation, a boy who thought himself pure, and the shattered and broken remnants of a psychic cloaked in hooded rags. A-

I will not be fodder, either for your strength or for your fight.

We only hold back Greta. She has no place in this fight.

I will protect the child.

And surrounding it all, the endless seething horde of insect life.

We are Legion.

They're falling back as the tanks and soldiers advance, but the Point Men begin to rally around Grey Lady, the batlike woman directing them quickly.

"Ignore him! Kill the girl!"

We will not allow that. Our shield remains strong, though its cost becomes apparent as one soldier burns to nothing, reducing our count of them to thirty-seven.

No matter. Our tanks turn their turrets and fire faster than the human eye can follow, and all save the stone-skinned Blockade are reduced to _meat._

Two more soldiers burn. One to the cost of power, the other falls to a silver bullet from Deathstroke. The former is gone, but the latter falls back out of the insect cloud, intact again.

The dream-weaver gestures, and transports himself. Distant explosions sound. Not our task.

Blockade roars a challenge, crushing a further two soldiers underfoot as he plows through the insect cloud, blinded utterly. It does not save him when the Martian impales his heart on molecule-destabilizing claws. Harm engages Deathstroke in hand-to-hand, a ghostly copy of the blade he hoped to wield in life clashing against a metal staff. Soldiers try keeping the Roman at bay, bullets clashing against his riot shield, but he closes the difference, and those cut down by the spear in his hands vanish from us.

The ground shakes, and a spray of earth divides us, the tanks crushed in the uproar as a red-eyed glaring monstrosity forms. Groundswell.

The earth elemental gets only a moment before Atomic Skull unleashes his might, blasting it to smithereens in a burst of deadly light.

The remnants of Psimon and the Ultra-Humanite pool their strength, seeking to crush minds, but none of those still alive have their minds open. The Roman may as well not be there, Destiny is too filled with madness and the tatters of dreams, and Deathstroke...Deathstroke reels, Harm pressing the advantage, but he still holds his ground, his mind still standing strong against the onslaught.

Sixteen soldiers left.

Deathstroke's staff cracks Harm across the temple, and the psychopath dissolves away. The Burning Martian steps in, and where the pale imitation of the Sword of Beowulf was blocked by Deathstroke's armor, the finest polymers and metals melt under the claws of the monster of a future that should never be..

"Stop! Please!"

We know that voice. Greta. How did she...how is unimportant. The Roman and Destiny pause, Psimon's remnants impaled on the former's spearpoint. We halt as she runs across broken ground.

"Please! Don't... don't kill anyone else," she sobs.

We can't feel her. Has she somehow cut herself off from us? Why would she... _oh._ We tap into the gorilla's talents.

The remaining fourteen soldiers turn as one and riddle the advancing child with bullets. Mid-stride, the ghostly form of Blank Slate replaces her, falling to the ground.

Liars never prosper.

The Roman and the dream-weaver fight on. The Roman's spear burns, even piercing the armor of tanks, while the dream-weaver…

"Die die die die _diediedie_ -"

Every motion, every step they take _hurts_ us, the ruby and the blood I can sense within, tying it to the dream-weaver, warping the world to its masters insane wishes.

Blood.

Heh.

Blood is _our_ domain, and if he will expose it so willingly to us…

As thirteen soldiers - all who remain to us - turn our guns upon the Ruby, they burn at once as we strike not with bullets, but with the power of the unseen and yet real.

Destiny's Ruby opens up to me, and we reach out to the pulsing traces of blood within, eager to subvert the man they're linked to.

We reach out with a hand that isn't there, and-

 **Ín͢t͏ru̵d͝er, ch͠ilḑ ͏o̵f ̴t̕h͜e ͜R͢e̕d̡.̡ ̢R͘ot ̢and ̴D̕ie͝.͘**

Something... something's wrong. Corruption, sickness, **ROT** , cut it away, burn and _burn and burn again_.

By the time we regain composure, the Roman is cutting down Harm and the Martian, and Dr. Destiny is cackling. We try to swarm him, crush him under weight of bugs, but at a gesture the insects turn to nightmare creatures that turn on each other in fratricidal fury.

"All power, no strength! No match for truth and old blood! No mage, just. A. Beast!"

The Rot. Fool. Decayed blood bound by a decayed man into the Ruby, it was not living at all. A trap, and it cost us far too much to spring it.

A beast, are we? Then a beast's form we shall take.

Close-layered chitin, gnashing mandibles, razor-sharp claws, wings and bent-twice legs.

"SKREEEEEEEE!"

Destiny screams in surprise which rapidly morphs into maniacal laughter as we charge him in our new body. "Turning into a monster is the last resort of the desperate! No true mage would make that mistake, neophyte! But now I see where you've been getting your power. Siphoning from souls you've captured? Do you even know how little of you is left? I'll cut you off and you'll be no more!"

His magic tears at us, at our connection to our remaining souls. We resist, but too few remain.

What is he doing? Who is he pulling at?

He rips away the vestiges of our mask, and we-

What? Where did you go, boy? What is this thing at your heart?

We only feel rage. Cackling, he dances, the Ruby held over his head. "I have you! You're nothing but-AAAH!"

We cut him off by plowing into him, crushing ribs with our force. This is no longer a fight of magic, but of might. And he is a mere human. A mere mortal man who has stolen our mask from us. Our claws lash out, digging into withered flesh, before we kick him away. Our intent is on the fallen Ruby.

All that power, first that of an Endless, then bound by blood and dark arts to the **Rot** and the dying wreck bleeding out onto the ground. Power to drive the world mad, power that, we know, is already doing so as its efforts disturb the Dreaming. Power to take from us that which is ours.

And yet, for all that, it's just a rock, one that shatters under our clawed foot.

The rush of power pulls at us, and though we try to resist, it pulls us away-


	22. Teutoberg Interlude 3

**1:34 PM GMT**

 **Burgess Manor, Wych Cross**

Silence. That had been the defining characteristic of the decades he'd spent, trapped here. While Roderick, and, in time, his spawn Alex had broken that silence with their demands and shouting, for much of the time he was left to rot in his crystal cage. If he were mortal, he'd have gone mad a long time ago, but his dear sister's realm held no true power over him.

Silence had been his companion and, as the only response he'd deigned to give to the arrogant mortals who'd imprisoned him, his weapon. Within his crystal cage, the normal, everyday sounds of the manor above were blocked out entirely- the only noise allowed was what was within this room.

So it came as a great surprise to Dream of the Endless when that silence was broken, not by the sound of Alex Burgess and his wheelchair approaching, but by a familiar voice. His own.

"Awake."

In an instant he was on his feet, ignoring his weakness to face the half-transparent copy of himself that stood on the other side of the circle. "How?" he asked.

In answer, the shade turned, letting Dream see the figure standing behind it. It was a rough shape, formless and seething, spreading blood on the floor and then pulling it back in time with some internal heartbeat. Some form of demon? Whatever it may have been, it growled at his copy, despite lacking a mouth.

His copy nodded, and plunged a hand into its cloak, pulling free a mask in the semblance of a smiling face. It placed it at the crown of the seething apparition, and stepped back.

The formless shape pulled itself up, taking a concrete form. It had the rough shape of a human, but its form flickered, patterns of teeth and veins and insects shifting over the skin. Only the blue eyes remained constant, remained human.

It looked down at the circle, and a gashlike smile opened beneath the eyes. Dust trickled down from the ceiling, and a dozen roaches, to Dream's eyes tied to the smiling wraith with strands of red light, fell to the ground. A spirit of the Red? Intriguing. The insects rushed over the circles, brushing an almost invisible line through the chalk.

It was enough. The crystal cage shattered, and Dream stepped outside of the circle. His transparent double collapsed into mist, drifting into the folds of his cloak. The Endless took a deep breath as strength he'd long been denied filled his body, but frowned. This much of himself...could only have come from the Ruby. "What have you done?" he asked the smiling apparition.

The man-shaped spirit shrugged. "What we needed to, to regain our mask." For half an instant, it took the form of a man, before dissolving back into chaos. "It is good you are freed, Dream. Much needs setting right. But we need to go. There is little time."

"Then follow me, Red shade. There is no time within the Dreaming."

"Fair enough, Endless. We suppose you should be informed of what has happened."

It was the work of a single step to walk from the mortal realm to the Dreaming, and Dream's frown deepened as he looked at the chaos it was in. "This is not the work of mere decay."

"Nah. A mortal sorcerer took hold of your ruby. This is from his death throes. Now, what is left...the explorer Marco Polo is lost in a Soft Place in the Gobi desert, the muse Calliope is held captive by the author Erasmus Fry, and raped to give him literary inspiration, Brute and Glob have kidnapped a mortal soul and used it to hide from your return, your pouch is in the hands of a drug addict- seek John Constantine for _that_ mess- and your helm is in the hands of the Demon Chronozon."

Dream- and, by extension, the Dreaming- stuttered to a stop as he stared at the spirit. Calliope...no. He would handle it, but the Dreaming came first. "And how, Red shade, did you come to know all this?"

"Go on, then. There are other worlds than these," the spirit replied.

Dream smiled. "Well spoken. You freed me, and so a boon I shall grant you. But first, your point of return."

The mists of the Dreaming parted slightly, revealing a frozen scene, of a shape in a red coat slumped on their knees, and a man armored in imitation of a long-lost empire charging forwards, spear levelled. Even over the distance between realms, Dream could feel the evil of that weapon, and so, it seemed, could the spirit, who merely sighed, and pointed to a bubble of red light, untouched by the destruction that surrounded the two fighters.

"A boon, then. Take her away from this, bring her back to her people. We do not know what will happen once we return, but she is not suited for battle."

"That is all?" Dream asked.

The spirit shrugged. "Why ask for more, when fate is already ordained?"

"If that is what you desire, Red shade, then it shall be granted."

 **6:32 AM MDT**

 **Challenger Mountain**

The Mountain was in complete chaos.

Not the controlled chaos that would, under normal circumstances, have preceded the Swarm being deployed. Under _normal_ circumstances, Legion would simply teleport whichever elements of the Swarm he required into battle with him. Under _normal_ circumstances the young man who'd given Morah a chance to atone for his mistakes would not be fighting for his life while all Morah could do was watch through the eyes of his drones.

They were marvels of engineering, able to stay flying in virtually any conditions, cameras that picked up color images at an unparalleled framerate, and with careful usage of the numerous auditory recorders, able to pick up conversations from virtually anywhere it could see within a considerable range. It could remain aloft for six hours, longer if it deployed the solar cells and the day was clear.

And, because all that advanced equipment left no room for armament, it was completely _useless_.

Even with the mustering of the Swarm being so distant, at the heart of the Mountain, he could still hear the enraged hisses, shrieks, and bellows as the creatures Legion had bred somehow sensed the danger their master was in. Inferno and Torpedo were already gone, making the best speed they could, but he knew they'd be too late to contribute. The Swarm, too, wouldn't make it in time, the distance between Rifle and the Mountain too great to cross quickly. At best, they'd be there in time for retribution.

On the screens, half-obscured by the falling rain, Legion's insectile form slammed Dr. Destiny aside, and crushed the Ruby under a single clawed foot. Light flared, obscuring the two from view, while off to the side the man dressed in an approximation of Roman armor busied himself with fighting a gorilla.

Morah decided he would review the sanity of that sentence when he was actually able to _do_ something. For now, he watched, as Legion slumped, form shifting back to human as he lost consciousness. The remaining things he'd summoned fought the Roman desperately, but the man, laughing, kept pressing forward, cutting a path with his spear towards the unconscious young man.

The world outside was in chaos as well. Madness had, it seemed, sprung up across the world, the progress and riots narrated by pale-faced newsmen. There'd be no help from other heroes. What had already happened in Rifle was barely a blip on the radar at the moment, even though it tore at him to acknowledge it.

The Roman lunged, and Morah's heart leapt into his throat as Legion suddenly woke, blurring into motion in a desperate effort to avoid the thrust, foot lashing out in a kick that drove the Roman back.

Not enough. Even as Legion got to his feet, blood dripped from the speartip and out from under the hand clasped over his eye. And kept falling, not healing.

Legion staggered, and the Roman laughed. "Not so strong, are you?" the soldier called. "All that effort, and at the slightest taste of the Spear you die just like the rest?"

Legion was silent.

"I expected more, child of Diana. This won't be a fight at all if your strength flees you already."

"That is all?" Legion asked, voice faint enough the drones could barely pick it up. "You're here for the battle?"

"The assassin took money, the dreamer took favors, and the clones were ordered, but I only signed up for Sportsmaster's revenge because he offered a challenge. Should have known he'd have lied."

Morah's eyes were intent on the screen, but his hands were busy, routing the stream of data from the drone in ways that would likely result in a great deal of trouble with the Federal Communications Committee at a later date. At the moment, though, that mattered little.

Legion chuckled, letting his hand fall. The spear had torn through flesh and bone with ease, leaving an empty, bloody socket, but he didn't seem to care. "So if I give you a good fight, you'll leave?" he asked, voice stronger.

"You'll be dead, but sure enough, I'll do that."

"And if I refuse to fight?"

"I'll kill everyone in this town, boy. And everyone else who tries to stop me. Get my fight that way."

"Heh." Legion closed his one remaining eye, then cracked his knuckles. "Then let's get this over with. But first, tell me: who are you?"

"I am Gratus Iunius Longinus, centurion of the Third Gallican Legion, slayer of gods. And you, boy?"

"I am Legion. What else would I be?" Legion sighed, and looked up at the rain, before returning his steady brown gaze to the Roman. "Let's end this."

Even through the rain, the drone's cameras could make out Longinus's grin. "Let's."


	23. Teutoberg Chapter Seven

**6:34 AM MDT**

 **Rifle, Colorado**

I open my eyes just in time to lose one. _Pain_ rips through my skull, and I kick the Roman bastard aside with a roar before scrambling to my feet. Blood wells past my fingers, pattering on the ground. It's not healing. It should heal, why isn't it-

Calm.

The Red fills me, pushing past the remnants of Dr. Destiny's wards and traps, unrestricted now that he's dead, the force of life itself fighting against whatever is keeping me from healing- and instead of sight returning, the pain intensifies, spreading like acid in my veins. I can feel it trying to kill me.

It's not enough. All the power of the Red, and it's not enough to stop it.

Well, guess this is how it ends, then.

Enough of these dramatics. We must speak. Now.

The world vanishes.

 **Not sure**

 **No fucking clue**

This place is empty. Endless drifts of sand, stretching out further and further, until in the distance a white wall blocks off any further sight.

Eye's still ruined, even here.

"Now where the hell am I?" I mutter to myself.

"Your heart and soul," a resonant, commanding voice says from behind me. I turn, and am not surprised at all to see Teth Adom standing in front of me. The giant of a man isn't in the black and gold Theo favored- instead, he wears a simple white robe and black cloak. Behind him, Greta huddles, watching me with fearful eyes.

"I wondered what happened to you," I say quietly. "Figured your soul passed on when I ripped Theo's apart. Should have known someone stubborn enough to hang around for millennia would be stubborn enough to resist becoming part of me. So why here and now?"

"You're dying."

"Yeah, I got stabbed in the face and it's getting worse. And I'd bet my eyeteeth the thing that did the stabbing is the Spear of Destiny," I say flatly. I look over my shoulder. "Let me guess. Advancing wall of nothingness consuming my soul?" As I say the words, the knot of pain where my eye used to be spreads, and I stagger as every nerve in my body seems to burn. But I laugh, even as Greta rushes to me, trying to lift me up. "Yup. Seems right. I don't have a plan. Do you?"

Adom nods, slowly. "I have not spent the years watching the world through the usurper's eyes idle, boy. He studied many dangerous artifacts. The Spear's properties mean that it can only take one life at a time. The backlash of a soul being destroyed will be considerable, but I could weather it, and protect the child."

Despite the pain ripping through me at the moment, I smile. Good. That means Greta, at least, will remain. I look at her, patting her on the back gently, and not being at all surprised at the fact the hand I do it with is beginning to flake and turn to ash. "Then I think I know how this ends," I say quietly. "Take care of Greta, after."

Adom's eyes go wide, and I laugh. "What? You think I didn't figure out what you were going to do? I'm dying, Pharaoh, the Spear seems determined to make that a fact," I say, trying my best to ignore Greta's attempt at objecting. "You'll take control of my body from my hands when I'm gone anyway. Why fight it?"

"You won't even attempt to resist your death?" Adom asks quietly.

"Prophecy."

"Those can be averted."

"No, they can be misinterpreted. Those who try to avert it...they cause it on their own anyway," I say, as my arm goes numb. Oh, it's gone. That's why. "Why waste the effort railing against what will come to pass?"

Greta holds on to my coat like she can keep me here through willpower alone. "Don't go," she whispers. I place my remaining hand on the side of her head, meeting her eyes.

"One of us must, little one," I say softly. "And I...he has killed so much of me, already. I don't have the strength to survive the backlash, even if Teth took my place…"

" _No._ I don't want _either_ of you to go! It's not _fair!_ "

The numbness has spread to my torso, now.

"Much of life rarely is, child," Adom says gently. "But this way, only one of us need die."

"Only one?" Greta asks quietly.

"Yes, child."

I feel more than see her nod. "Okay."

And then she's gone, leaving me to topple forward as she runs towards the advancing wall of annihilation. I try to rush after her, but my legs go numb next, falling away from under me and leaving me to crawl on the ground. All I can do is watch, as a lance of pure white nothingness extends from the wall, punching through the air towards her, faster than thought.

Adom is even faster, and blood speckles Greta's face as he practically teleports in front of her, the spearhead punching through his back and out of his chest.

"It appears...neither one of you...die today," he says, sinking to his knees as the walls of nothingness pull back- and then coalesce, pulling themselves into the Spear embedded in his chest. Suddenly, I have limbs again, and I use them to rush towards the other two.

"Not if that Roman has a say about it," I growl. "I can't beat him."

"I still can," Adom says, even as the Spear begins to burn at him. "Give me control. You...you are both spirits, you have no real need of a- _hurk-_ physical form. When I fall, go into the Red. You might- _gurgh-_ survive."

I sigh. "Go. It isn't as though we have any other options. Kill the bastard for us."

Adam smiles, teeth rimed with blood, and stands.

"Shu. Hershef. Amon. Zehuti. Anpu. Menthu. Grant...grant me strength, one last time," he grits out.

We run, and Adom burns.

 **6:35 AM MDT**

 **Rifle, Colorado**

I open my eyes again, to a world of ruins. The physical wounds inflicted by the Spear burn. They are of no consequence.

The fool with a weapon far beyond his standing is still speaking. "-at the slightest taste of the Spear you die like all the rest? I expected more, child of Diana. This won't be a fight at all if your strength flees you already."

I could laugh. The man claims he desires a contest, yet attacks while the boy was unconscious, and that after attacking from ambush?

"That is all? You're here for the battle?" I ask.

"The assassin took money, the dreamer took favors, and the clones were ordered, but I only signed up for Sportsmaster's revenge because he offered a challenge. Should have known he'd have lied."

"So if I give you a good fight, you'll leave?" I ask.

"You'll be dead, but sure enough, I'll do that." A lie. But it does not matter what the Roman truly intends to do. The theatrics are the important element here. Zehuti's wisdom allows me to divine that the artificer is watching.  
"And if I refuse to fight?"  
"I'll kill everyone in this town, boy. And everyone else who tries to stop me. Get my fight that way."  
A small chuckle escapes me as the fool who thinks himself a true warrior makes his blustering threats. I close the eye that remains to me, then crack my knuckles, gathering my strength.

One element left.

"Then let's get this over with. But first, tell me: who are you?" I ask.

"I am Gratus Iunius Longinus, centurion of the Third Gallican Legion, slayer of gods. And you, boy?"

He presumes quite a lot in his titles.

"I am Legion. What else would I be?" I sigh, and look at the falling rain for a moment. It is the first time I've seen it through my own eyes in millennia. And it will be all too short a moment. But it is enough. "Let's end this."

The grin of the self-proclaimed godslayer nearly matches the one I have inside. "Let's."

He takes a step forward. In that time, I cross the distance between us, aided by the speed of Anpu, and slam a fist into his chin. He staggers, but even with Hershef's strength behind the blow seems naught but unsettled, spear thrusting for my heart.

Overextending himself. Foolish. The move of a man too used to relying on supernatural resilience and not enough on defensive skill. I outgrew that long before my second century. I sidestep with the Speed of Anpu, and demonstrate why such sloppy disregard for one's own footing can be deadly. My hand lashes out, grabbing the weapon behind the deadly barbed head while I backhand him across the face with my free hand. The helmet goes flying, shattered utterly, and I take his disorientation as an opening to follow up with a knee to the gut. Armor cracks under the blow, and he vomits as his gut rebels, bending double and losing his grip on the weapon. I toss it aside, and- despite the growing pain and weakness tearing at my innards- grin. "What is wrong, O Centurion?" I ask mockingly. "You desired to fight a demigod, did you not?" He straightens up fractionally, and throws a sloppy haymaker. In the time it takes for that to cross the distance between us, I note that the bruises on his face are rapidly healing. Then I catch the offending hand in my own, and snap his wrist. He screams.

"Your spear pierced Christ on His Cross, and you were cursed to walk the earth, undying, ever since. Allow me to educate you in how an immortal _truly_ fights." I say savagely, as my other hand rips free the shattered remnants of his armor. He attempts to kick me in the fork of the legs, but with the stamina of Shu this does nothing. I respond with a headbutt, and he reels back with a broken nose. I take a step towards him, stumbling slightly as the burning pain increases.

No matter. This will be over soon.

Longinus has fallen to his knees, blinded by the blood in his eyes. I decide to make that rather more permanent, and grab him by the head before jamming my thumbs into his eye sockets. His screams reach a far higher pitch, and he claws at my hands, drawing blood.

"Without that spear, you are _nothing_ ," I growl, pulling him off the ground by his head, even as my muscles scream in pain. "A coward and a fool. Now, let this be the final word you hear, centurion of a dead empire."

I smile as I lift the broken wreck of a man above my head, facing the heavens.

" _SHAZAM!"_

 **Timeless**

 **Formless**

I cloak myself in the Red, pulling us both deeper and deeper as the force of Adom's death follows in our wake, tearing through realms of spirit and thought with sheer power. The wave overtakes us, absolute destruction nipping at our heels, and with something more akin to instinct than knowledge I pull solidity and reality around us both, a shield against nothingness. The Spear's power eats at it regardless, corroding everything. Maybe what I've done will last long enough for that power to fade away. Maybe not. We're free-falling through the Red either way.

As the white light grows in strength, the last remnants of Teth drifting away like ash on the wind, Greta hides from it, burying her face in my coat. I hold her close as the world begins to go white around us, a shrinking circle of reality in the void.

"Hush, little one," I say quietly. "It's alright."

"It'll be over soon."


	24. Epilogue

Welp, this is it. Fear not, though. We Are Legion will have successors.

" _Welcome back! Today, we'll continue our discussion on the events of November 21st. Cities worldwide are recovering from the cases of madness and violence that swept the globe that day, with death tolls rising into the thousands. With the simultaneous release of footage showing the superhero Legion engaging a group of villains, the question on everyone's minds is: how are these two things connected? As a guest today we have the Justice League member Giovanni Zatara."_

" _Good morning."_

" _So, care to shed some light on the events of the 21st, Mr. Zatara?"_

" _Of course. Are you familiar with the villain known as Dr. Destiny, Ms. Grant?"_

" _I don't believe I am."_

" _He was an early foe of the second Green Lantern, in the early 90s. His power was...unusual. He used a large gemstone to bring dreams to life, and to alter them. He was defeated, and due to the madness inflicted upon him by overuse of the gem, brought to Arkham Asylum. He escaped a year prior in a mass breakout, but nothing was heard from him until the day he fought Legion. What my colleagues and I_ currently _believe is that his gem, in his battle with Legion, tapped into...let us call it the collective subconscious. As it drew on that realm for power to protect Destiny, it...unsettled things."_

" _And caused madness across the world?"_

" _Yes. Thankfully, the gem was destroyed, and it is nearly impossible to create a similar artifact. The gem itself was unique."_

" _And what about the allegations made by the villain Centurion, and by Legion himself, during their battle? Is it true that-?"_

" _The Spear is genuine. And it will remain locked away for the foreseeable future. It is_ far _too dangerous to use."_

 _This is the Last Will and Testament of Grant Alvear, alias Legion_

 _Well, if you're reading this, someone pulled it off and finally managed to kill me. To whoever you are: congrats, you pulled off some Grade-A bullshit, and if it wasn't me on the receiving end I'd probably have thought it pretty funny._

 _Regardless, I'm dead, there's likely mourning and crying, or if I was enough of an asshole in between the time of my death and writing this, celebrating and excessive consumption of alcohol._

 _For my family:_

 _Tomek Ovadya Morah, you're Greta's legal guardian now. Take care of her, raise her well. You're also inheriting all of my business assets, you old bastard. Don't fuck up. Lastly, anything left in the vaults is yours to distribute. I've likely left quite a few projects unfinished- either destroy them or give them to their intended owners._

 _First of the Swarm...well, congrats, Pinocchio, legally speaking you're a real boy. My libraries have been unlocked, and there's a standing agreement with Nabu that you're allowed to peruse his own collection. You were made to be my helper and apprentice, but I think by now your skills at bioengineering have surpassed my own. You're the master of the Swarm now. You're also the only one of the Swarm with human-equivalent intelligence, so listen up: care for your brothers and sisters, keep a tight leash on them, and_ never _turn against humankind. Beyond that...grow. Evolve. And keep this world_ safe.

 _Greta...I'm sorry that I had to leave you. There's enough put away to fund your education, and even more once you come of age and demonstrate you have a cool head with regards to obscene amounts of money. Library's open to you as well, and I have quite a few books picked out for you to start with. I'm counting on you, little one. Whatever you do, it'll make me proud, I know it._

 _Cassandra: Don't cry for me. There's a few pieces I've been working on in my spare time, for when you're older. If you want to walk the same path I have...simply come to the Mountain. First knows what to do._

 _For my friends:_

 _For all of you, I've scattered investments in your names across fields I think will become quite profitable in the years to come. At the very least it'll be enough for each of you to equip yourselves without relying on anyone else. The people to contact are listed in the sealed envelopes that came with the will._

 _Garfield: The labs are open to you, and will remain that way._

 _Artemis: I've left everything I could pull together on shards in a condensed format. Use it well, and keep being the hero you were meant to be._

 _Red Arrow: What I have to give to you is within the lockbox in one of the deeper vaults. You're smart enough to use it, but if you go charging off like an idiot I'll come back from the dead (or the Red) to smack you upside the head myself. Temper anger with reason._

 _Speedy: I don't think you and I talked much. I can't rectify that now, either. Stick with your brother, and in my absence knock some sense into him from time to time._

 _Aqualad: Beyond the sealed information, which you should read in private, I've left the notes to some of my less explored avenues of biomancy. With Red and Clear merged, your people could find these useful._

 _Robin: Talk to 'Butlerman', and your mentor. They should know the score. You and Aqualad will both be needed for what lies ahead._

 _Kid Flash: Keep the staff, if it's intact. Something to remember me by, and if worst comes to worst you can use it as a spell component. I've also left a few notes into a certain formula. It's not my area of expertise, but perhaps your family could make use of it._

 _Superboy: I won't be around to help with the amulet if something goes wrong with it. At the time of writing (November 10th, 2010) within a year or so even the most residual changes should be complete, and you can safely set it aside. Until then, the documentation and notes on its creation should serve if anyone needs to repair or otherwise adjust it._

 _Match: Try to keep your brother from breaking too much or blowing up the Mountain with laser vision, please?_

 _Victor: I doubt you really need the money at this point, but I've made quite a few advances in research. Enclosed is a variety of alterations you could adopt into your form. They may save your life._

 _Miss Martian: I wish we could have gotten along better. But the Red of this world thinks you are part of it regardless. I urge you, learn what that entails._

 _Rudolf: I'm sorry I'm not the Legion you knew. But you're always welcome in the Mountain._

 **November 28th, 2010**

 **Challengerville**

The funeral had been more simple than most that took place in this day and age, he'd been informed. It was still far more ceremonial than he was accustomed to seeing. His dress fatigues itched, but he ignored it. Compared to the pain using his powers had used to inflict on him, a bit of itching was nothing.

There hadn't been a body to bury. Legion had, most of the intelligence analysts agreed, called upon the powers of Black Adam to kill Longinus, and the effort, combined with the effects of the Spear of Destiny, had been enough to kill him. And to vaporize his body utterly. Only his staff and the melted remnants of some sort of protection charm had remained.

Still. They'd gathered here to say goodbye. Most of them in costume- he and a young woman he could only assume was Giovanni Zatara's daughter were the only ones in anything approaching normal clothing. The mere fact that his own uniform could be considered 'normal' summed up every insane element of this era perfectly in his mind.

Legion had been...not an atheist, but most certainly not a man of faith. There wasn't any real service. Just a few of the ones who'd known him best, speaking about him, in between the bulk of the mountain and the ruins of the town it overlooked.

Rudolf had held his tongue. He hadn't known this Legion well enough to deserve to speak of him.

It was afterward, as the gathered heroes broke apart into their own separate, huddled groups, that he found who he wanted to speak with.

Red Arrow's costume had changed a great deal since the archer had last been seen in public. Heavier armor, and he wasn't carrying a quiver or bow anymore. It wasn't due to some taboo against weaponry that he could tell- several of the other heroes, including Arrow's former mentor, had come armed. More out of habit than anything else- he himself had a collapsible staff underneath his jacket and throwing knives concealed everywhere he could inconspicuously fit them.

The biggest change in the young hero's costume, though, was the mask. Last time Rudolf had seen him, he'd favored a simple domino mask. Now, he wore something distinctly more...birdlike. A dark red, it covered the upper half of his face, a hooked beak jutting out over the nose.

Rudolf wondered exactly what that meant, but decided that at the moment it didn't change things.

"What's on your mind?" he asked politely.

Arrow looked up, expression surprised for just a moment before it shifted back to his usual frown.

"Something doesn't feel quite right," the hero admitted. "Sportsmaster being the mastermind? It's not his style."

Rudolf nodded. "My people agree."

"You mean the KSK, or German intelligence?"

"Both."

"Hmph. You here to recruit me?"

"No. But I'm willing to bet you'll be looking for whoever's really behind his death. And when you find them? I want in."

"Thought you cut ties with him because he _wasn't_ the friend you'd known."

"He was still a friend. And thousands of Germans died due to John Dee and his ruby. We want our pound of flesh, Mr. Arrow."

"Fair enough. You got somewhere I can reach you?"

Rudolf tossed him a cheap flip phone. "Number's in there."

"Good."

Rudolf didn't smile. He never had really had the chance before coming here, and the habit of not doing so had long since been ingrained into him by the mere fact of his facial scars, even if they were healed now. But he nodded, and left quietly.

 **November 22nd**

 **Undisclosed Location**

Lawrence Crock was not a stupid man.

The idiot Roman bastard- who had apparently turned out to be the real deal- on the other hand... _he_ most certainly was. Shouting out who he was working for without caring who was listening...it was like he _wanted_ to screw Crock over.

He had a feeling this whole mess was going to end poorly. He'd had it since Jade had relayed the boss's orders to speak with them.

Screw it. The only people actually here were him and Jade. And he knew the girl wouldn't hurt family, no matter what. She wouldn't _dare._ So if the bosses tried, he could cut ties. Rebrand, if need be- Sportsmaster had only ever been a mask, and if worst came to worst he could simply discard that identity.

So he waited, like a professional, as the various screens lit up.

"Where's Ra's?" he asked, nodding to the one screen that stayed blank.

"Mr. al Ghul is...indisposed," Savage said flatly. "We are not here to discuss him. We are here to discuss your future with this organization, Mr. Crock."

"I did what I was ordered to do. Your candidate just couldn't hack it," he said.

"We ordered you to _test_ the boy, not have him killed," Luthor said. "Perhaps in light of your past efforts at child-rearing, we should have been more specific."

"You used _our resources_ for your petty revenge," Brain's chassis buzzed. "And now, thanks to your poor choice in assassins, we have investigations into exactly _how_ you were able to gather such a force already nipping at our collective heels."

Luthor folded his hands. "Regardless, we've decided it's time to restructure our current organization-"

He shut the screens off with a _blip_ , flashing a hand signal to Jade to follow him.

They were pissed, and they were certainly going to have him killed. Time to go, and-

Cold metal punched through the back of his ballistic vest and into his spine, and he felt his legs go limp, sending him toppling to the floor. How-

"Sorry, Dad. But orders are orders."

Jade. That little traitorous _bitch_. He'd wring her neck with his own hands, once he-

The screens turned back on.

"Mr. Lawton, if you would do the honors?" Vandal Savage asked.

"Gladly, boss," a Southern-accented voice drawled.

There was a gunshot. And then, for Lawrence Crock…

 _Fire._

Administrator…

run: script= _reaction

Administrator was _furious._

It had happened _again_ , they/she had been blindsided, another host/symbiote/counterpart lost. And it was far worse this time, because this time the symbiote had spoken to them. _Known_ them, treated them/her as an equal.

run: function= _to_avatar

In the section of the Red that hosted her and her shards, her avatar, forged from remembrance and loss, shrieked in rage, slamming illusory fists into the ground.

Flesh-weaver had been the first, a sudden loss as they were suddenly wiped away in their entirety. Even with that warning, as she and the buds marshalled defenses, the attack had been far too sudden, too _unexpected_ , striking at the sections of them that encoded the symbiote's functions in the periods of disincorporation her power and the Red's managed as one. They'd been forced to jettison the segment, and the backups with it, as the corrupting wave of nothingness had threatened to kill them in their entirety.

This could not stand.

run: core_function=threat_assess/light

The limited elements of awareness available to them told them that the weapon responsible would be secure. The STRUCTURE IMPERATIVE and its chosen host possessed great power in the chosen world, and their use of this universe's physical strangeness was without equal. They would not be harmed again.

But if one existed, a weapon that could threaten her and not just her connection to her symbiote...more could be there.

That, at least, was the justification she gave herself. Her...father's...restrictions kept her from intervening at all unless the Cycle...the corrupted, defunct, and _paradoxically foolish_ Cycle was threatened.

In truth, she wanted the enemy- and she'd find who that enemy _was_ , in time- to hurt. Even with a threat she could not interfere directly...or even indirectly, with her symbiote cast away...but she was not alone.

result: threat_assess=1

run: function=conference

Each of her buds came when they were called. Each donned avatars, in this place.

Waveform, the form of a mechanical lifeform with a purple symbol emblazoned on its chest.

Dominance, the smirking blond female in a similar shade.

Pack-Alpha, an immature female, her pigtails contrasted with a butcher's apron.

Effector, a female in fatigues and a bandanna.

Radar, a thin male twirling a switchblade, a smile perpetually on his face.

Evolution, an older male with greying hair, smiling as well, the sclera of his eyes black and the irises red.

Dispensary, a short and overweight male in doctor's clothing, with an enormous mustache.

run: function=conference_count

result: 7 of 7 present

run: function=conference_call

 _Dissent,_ Dominance and Radar broadcast. _Blind._

It was true. Precognition and simulation were of limited utility. They had not been designed to take into account the strangeness of this world-set, _could_ not take into account the divergences. She couldn't use them effectively. And thus the two dissenters counselled caution, non-interference. Based upon personality profiles the 'heroes' of this world would eventually uncover the enemy for them.

Still. A few nudges could not hurt. She could not plan them out effectively, but they had symbiotes. While large-scale interference was still locked away by Father's bindings, they had other ways, ways Father had not anticipated, to speak with their symbiotes.

 _Defense._

 _Foolishness_ , the two, joined by Evolution and Dispensary, broadcast back. _Endangering._

 _Necessary._

run: function=conference_vote

 _Decision_ , she broadcast.

The shards made their choices.


End file.
